


Loving Jamie

by JillianK



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Confused Claire, Evil horse, F/M, Non-verbal Jamie., Very verbal mule
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 42,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JillianK/pseuds/JillianK
Summary: After an indiscretion Claire must marry someone soon or she will be forever ruined.  When Dougal suggests a poor, mute crofter by the name of Jamie Fraser she agrees as the man is unlikely to ask much of her.  She marries him, goes to live with him on his cottage and learns that true love is not the flame that blazes hot and dies quickly but the steady fire that burns true.





	1. In which Jamie and Clarence come to Leoch

.

There were three things that Jamie Fraser wanted more than anything else in the world: a horse, a good recipe to repel weevils and a wife. He might manage the horse someday but it would take a few more years of careful saving. The weevils were more of a challenge and he had tried everything under the sun to rid of the pests with no visible success. As for the wife...well that was mostly a dream than a goal. Lassies were precious and none had ever looked twice at the grubby crofter with only a few weevil-ridden acres and no horse to his name. It was all very unfair.

But he had a mule and that was as good as a horse on most days or so he told himself. Clarence, the aforementioned animal, certainly thought of himself a horse and a thoroughbred at that. He had a way of galloping that made his overlarge ears flap about as if he were a large bird in flight. Clarence was also a very smart mule and could guess what Jamie wanted of him without much effort. This was very helpful as Jamie had not been able to say much of anything since he was nineteen due to an incident involving an axe and his head.

He didn’t like to think about that very much so he didn’t. There was always work to focus on and that was good. All in all it was a satisfactory life if not for the weevils.

So when he was summoned to Leoch, by a rider in a very enviable horse no less, he didn’t know what to expect. His uncles left him alone for he most part which was just fine with him. Colum had granted him the croft when it became apparent that he could no longer be the laird of Lallybroch after his injury. They didn’t even ask him for any money for it but Jamie was always first in line with his fattest pig or sturdiest goat when Dougal’s party came to collect the rents. 

Jamie was a dutiful tenant and nephew so he loaded Clarence with a loaf of bread and cheese and set out for Leoch. He even put on his best kilt. He only had two and wore them often so it was mostly a judgement call as to which one was the “best”. 

From his croft to the McKenzie keep there was only a half day’s ride but he’d left enough food for his animals for three days just in case his uncles kept him longer than anticipated. He hoped that this wouldn’t be the case.

It was a very nice ride. The weather was fine and Clarence provided running commentary on everything he saw. It was probably the mule’s way of making up for Jamie’s silence and his efforts were appreciated though he could only take so much braying before his head started pounding. They stopped at a stream for lunch and Clarence, in the matter of all wise mules, grazed just enough on sweet grass to quell his hunger. His less wise master ate his entire loaf in one sitting and was hungry a couple of hours later with nothing to remedy it. The mule snorted in self righteous contempt.

At last they arrived at Leoch. The castle was a hub of activity but it only took a few moments for Mrs Fitz to locate Jamie who was a favorite of hers. She swept him in a loving but rather strong hug.

“Dear lad, how good to see you! Och, you’re thin as a scarecrow. Come at once to the kitchen where there is a good meal to be had. I’ll let Himself know that you have arrived.”

Jamie went happily but smirked at Clarence as the mule was led to the stables. Clarence rolled his eyes.

The good meal was a three course dinner featuring roasted venison and Dundee cake with whisky marmalade. Jamie was in culinary heaven even with Laoghaire giving him the cold shoulder. Once upon a time he’d been the recipient of her romantic inclinations but with the loss of his voice, land, birthright etc, etc , he’d become a lot less desirable. She looked at him as he would his insect intruders when he smiled in greeting. Oh well.

When Mrs Fitz brought out the good whiskey for him he all but kissed her in gratitude. He had exactly one whiskey bottle in his cottage and he was saving it to celebrate his future horse purchase or the eradication of the weevil army, whichever came first, but here was good, free whiskey. This visit was looking up.

But even so he sensed that there was something strange going on and he could not quite grasp what it was. This was a common occurrence ever since he woke up in the Abbey of St Anne de Beaupre after his injury. A lot of things became a little harder to understand. He wasn’t stupid and could do calculations in his head as well as he’d done them pre-axe but there was something missing in his thought process. Most of time it didn’t bother him because it was only him and Clarence but in a place like Leoch it was a deficit. Jamie hoped he come out of it well but then again what else did he really have to lose? His mule?

Well, he would deal with whatever his uncles had cooked up for him. In the meantime there was whiskey.

He ate his fill and was told to make himself presentable. Mrs Fitz informed him that he as expected in the hall as she led him in to one of the empty rooms where a he saw a brand new kilt waiting for him. It was a thing of beauty and there was even a good shirt to go with. He washed and changed enthusiastically and even combed his hair. Jamie had all but forgotten that he was the Laird’s only nephew but it was nice to be reminded. 

He left his sword and dirk on and went to greet his uncles at the great hall but as he travelled there he could not help but notice that no one would meet his eyes when he came across the castle’s many inhabitants. They merely smiled at him and rushed away before he could respond with a smile of his own. It was very odd.

At last he arrived to his destination. The castle’s great hall was filled and alight with anticipation of some kind of event. He would venture to guess it was time for Colum to hold his open court if not for the flowers adorning a makeshift altar where a priest stood. In front of the priest was a very bonny woman dressed in a silver embroidered dress. Her curly brown hair was swept up in a riot of glossy curls pinned with pearls. She was pale faced and looked on his arrival with clear anxiety in her pretty amber eyes. He couldn’t venture to guess why as the lass was clearly a bride waiting for her tardy groom. Jamie wondered who the lucky bastard was to merit such a prize and how dare he make her wait.

He located Colum and Dougal standing to the right side of the bride. He greeted his uncles with an uncertain smile. Dougal laid a hand on Jamie’s shoulder and pulled him close so that he could hear his whispered words.

“Jamie lad today is a verra special day for you.” 

Jamie wrinkled his long nose in confusion. Whatever did his uncle mean?

“Today is your own wedding day.”

Holy Christ. The lucky bastard was him. 

TBC. (If anyone is interested)


	2. The Wedding

He’d begun the day as a single man with a single mule and a single insect problem. He ended the day as a married man with an indignant mule, a crazy horse (hers) and many new problems. 

Jamie had no idea how any of that had happened. He guessed that the combination of the bride’s extraordinary beauty (he was convinced of this), the whisky he’d consumed (first time in months) and Dougal’s masterful manipulation (truly masterful) led for Jamie to nod yes when the priest asked him if he would take this woman for better and for worse. 

When his uncle had told him that the lovely vision before him was to be his, Jamie had all but fainted in front of everyone but had kept to his feet albeit unsteadily. He curtsied to his would-be-bride and smiled shyly then took Dougal by the arm and pulled him across the hall into a side alcove where no one could see them. There he flapped his arms about as if were an angry duck motioning to himself and to the great hall where the wedding party and the bride awaited him. 

The war chief of the McKenzie clan did not bat an eye at his nephew’s silent outburst. Apparently he had been more than ready to counter Jamie’s objections with an unadorned dose of reality.

“Come on lad. You are poor as a church mouse and mute as as one to boot. Your crops are almost always infested with bugs and your mule is fairly strange. Where on God’s green earth are you to find a wife that will not only accept being penniless but also being saddled with all of that?”

Jamie cringed a bit at hearing his shortcomings laid out just like that. There was no arguing with that logic but why should he want to bring another person to all that apparent misery? He was content with his life but he seriously doubted that any lassie would be especially one as exquisite as the the one that awaited him.

He shook his head a resolute no. Dougal tried another angle.

“I saw ye looking at Claire when you came in. She’s verra pretty right?”

Jamie nodded suspiciously. The lady was uncommonly beautiful which would no doubt garner her a much better match than him. Hell, even his fat cousin Rupert would be better than him since he had five very sturdy horses to his name. What was Dougal going on about?

“Well another less than honorable man thought so as well. The lady is a sassenach raised by her uncle after the death of her parents. The uncle was a fine doctor so Colum sent for him to see if he could do anything for his ailment and the lass came with him. I believe she fancies herself a healer and is good with the herbs and such things but she could not do much for her guardian when his heart decided to give out. That was almost four months ago and Colum gave the lass sanctuary until someone else would step in and care for her. “

Jamie blinked and felt his resolution to remain unmarried crack a bit.

“Everything was fine and good for a while. Mrs. Fitz took a real liking to her as she is smart as a whip. We even though that she could take over as the castle healer but then some bold man sought fit to court her. Colum and I deemed him unsuitable due to his former dalliances with other ladies. We got her to reconsider and she broke it off. However, she was still willing to be his friend which was a mistake because such a man would not be satisfied with just that. He caught her off guard one day and stole her from our lands. We tracked her down wandering the woods by herself two days later and she claims that she was able to fight him off and run away. I believe her but folks around these parts already call her a whore. “

Dougal could see worry for the sassenach creep in his nephew’s blue eyes. Jamie was a tender lad so Colum went for the exposed jugular.

“If you don’t marry Claire Beauchamp she will be sent to a convent. We don’t want that do we?”

Jamie shook his head already immersed in Miss Beauchamp’s plight.

“Alright then. I believe you have a bride to get to. No worries though she is of gentle birth like yourself and Colum will provide you with a dowry for her.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes and indicated to his uncle that he would not be accepting any dowry. He was dirt poor but he still had his pride and guessed she still had hers too. Having her for wife would be prize enough.

“That’s fine lad. I didn’t think you would take it as you’ve always been the proud sort. She does have her own horse and a cart which will help getting her trunks to your home. We told her you do not have much and Mrs. Fitz gave her pots and kettles and such for housekeeping. I think she also has a collection of books as well.”

Books! Jamie loved books but he had but the two and one was an useless one about garden pests but he had read his copy of “The Odyssey” so often that he would have been able to quote entire passages if he were able to speak.

A wife, a horse and books... they were bounties to behold for sure. He wished Clarence could see him now. The mule’s head would twist in wonderment at his master’s undeserved good luck.

The ceremony went quickly and he kept his eyes lowered which put her generous bosom in sight. He lowered them even more and spent his entire wedding looking at the silver leaf embroidery in her torso. It was really pretty but he hoped that her other dresses were a lot more practical than that one or they were in for a bad time.

Jamie noticed that her hands in her lace gloves were trembling from stress. He reached out to her when he noticed the shape of his own hands and pulled them back. They were not the hands of the Laird or soldier that he’d been. They were the hands of an impoverished crofter with its broken nails and many calluses from barely eking out a living. He was supposed to bring her into that?

Claire must have sensed his thoughts for she grasped his hands in hers and he lifted his head to meet her whiskey eyes. The bride took heart in the clear blue innocence of his gaze. Mrs. Fitz had said that she wouldn’t able to find a kinder man to marry even if she looked through all of Scotland. She hoped she was right.

What Mrs. Fitz hadn’t mentioned was how handsome Jamie was. Ungroomed but tall and beautiful with his lovely russet curls and ruddy skin. So what if he didn’t speak? She’d fallen for pretty words before to her misfortune. 

And then they were married. She had surprised herself at the conviction behind her acceptance of him. Her loud “yes ” had resounded in the hall and the groom had smiled proudly.

For Jamie the ceremony felt as if he were standing in a dream. After the wedding Colum gave the toast for him and his wife and then they were packed and ready to travel to his cottage. He got to keep the new kilt and Clarence did twist his head almost upside down when he saw Jamie coming down the path with his new bride. The mule greeted her with a delicate sniff when Jamie went to introduce his wife to his best friend.

Claire sensed that the mule was important to her new husband. He motioned to it with his very expressive hands and Claire felt that she needed to curtsy which she did. Jamie took her left hand ( with its new silver ring provided by Colum) in his and traced the mule’s name on her palm with his index finger.

C-L-A-R-E-N-C-E

“Clarence. That’s a good name. I’m Claire.”

Clarence blew at a lock of her hair resting lightly in her forehead. He liked the smell of her as well as her voice. It would be nice not to be the only one responsible for all conversation in the tiny household of two. You could only do so much enthusiastic braying before your overlong ears started hurting. Yes, this could be a good thing for everyone involved mules and non-mules alike.

An infernal noise coming from one side of the castle startled all three. Two extremely nervous-grooms were pulling the reins of a huge bay horse attached to a cart with three heavy trunks on it. The creature was roaring in anger and his yellow teeth were slashing at the air trying to take a bite of whatever he could get ahold of. His hoofs kicking and rearing trying to dislodge both the cart and the grooms from his vicinity.

Clarence’s ears dropped sideways and Jamie froze at the sight. That couldn’t possibly be the horse they were meant to bring with them. That wasn’t even a horse but a hell beast intent only on savagery on everyone unlucky enough to cross his path.

Claire had no such reaction but smiled broadly as the horse caught sight of his mistress and trotted faithfully to her casting aside the two grooms with ease.

“Gideon” she said lovingly.

Jamie’s heart sunk.

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you so much for all your comments. This story is a bit different from what I usually write so all ideas are welcome. I do know that Gideon and Clarence will not see eye to eye and that will lead to other issues.


	3. The first night

Jamie had yet to be kissed by his bride.

They have been married for almost a day and he had not felt even a bit of the touch of her soft lips on his own. 

The thought came to him suddenly as he reined in his mule for the tenth time when he stubbornly tried to creep past Gideon once again. Claire’s horse adamantly refused to follow another animal and had almost taken a bite of an extremely mortified Clarence when the mule tried to take the lead. Clarence had never been one to run away from a fight and had continued to hound the equine demon relentlessly. Jamie was already tired of both of them.

Tired and unkissed on his wedding day. 

It would well past nightfall when they finally would arrive at his cottage which was the best way to be introduced to it he supposed. The little one room structure was fairly sturdy and warm but lacked everything but the barest of essentials. He’d built most of the furniture with an eye for practicality and not beauty. After all, it was only for his own use and he had little care for aesthetics with all the work he had to do just to keep himself and his animals fed not to mention plotting against the weevils. If his lady was accustomed to anything approaching luxury she would find him and his home severely lacking. Jamie was proud of his little homestead and had built it stone by stone with his very own hands but he had to admit it was on the ugly side. 

Every so often Claire would turn towards him with an uncertain smile as if assuring herself that he was still there. He would grin back and their eyes would meet for a few moments until one of them would lower them, still self-conscious with each other. 

At last the little grey stone cottage rose before them. The moonlight that had guided their path, reflected upon the thatched roof with its large chimney. Clarence, master of his own kingdom, trotted up to the entrance rather snobbishly as if letting the thoroughbred know exactly whose home this was.

Gideon looked supremely unimpressed but Claire gazed around in wonderment at the peaceful setting which was so different from the bustle of crowded Leoch. Her heart gladdened at the sight of the moonlit pastures and rolling hills. The house itself beckoning to its new mistress with the promise of much needed sanctuary. She could breathe here.

Jamie dismounted quickly and set out to help his wife down from her horse. His large hands circled her slim waist while setting her down carefully on the ground. For a moment their bodies pressed against each other. Jamie felt himself flush at the feel of her soft form through the thick material of the riding cloak she wore. She was significantly smaller than him and delicate compared to his ungainly sturdiness. 

Gideon snorted menacingly reminding Jamie to keep his distance. Jamie let go and stepped aside to allow her to gather herself. The horse clearly did not approve of his mistress’ new husband and made sure everyone involved knew it. Annoyed, Clarence bared his teeth at the obnoxious animal. The mule was most decidedly in the pro Jamie and Claire camp.

Jamie signaled to his wife to wait for a moment while he went into the cottage to light the fire and some candles. After a few minutes he came back outside and took Claire by the hand, nervous but eager for her to see the home he’d made.

“Oh Jamie it’s just perfect.” she exclaimed at the sight of the modest but well-built room with its simple furniture and clean design. Everything was made of natural wood that had been sanded down but kept unvarnished. The stones that made the walls were uncut and jutted a bit here and there in shades of silvery grey and ash brown. One side of the room was taken by a large fireplace made of a lighter stone with a hook to hang pots and kettles for cooking. The other side housed a bed with a warm looking knitted blanket and muslin sheets that Jamie kept spotlessly clean. It was large enough to accommodate his size comfortably and would serve her well . Claire longed to sink into its inviting softness and hide from the world under its thick covers. Although she was accustomed to grander abodes, she found herself loving everything in sight. There was nothing prissy or artificial about Jamie nor his home. It was honest and beautiful. 

Jamie took Claire’s cloak and hung it on a peg near the door then he turned to his wife with an expectant look to his eyes. He wasn’t certain about what he was meant to do now. If he were by himself, he would strip down to his sark and wash his face and hands. If he wasn’t too tired he would do a bit of mending or work on his knitting. He wondered if she was hungry. He had some bread, cheese and elderberry jam in the pie safe or if that wasn’t suitable he could make her some porridge. 

Since his wife was English, he broke the impasse by going for his old kettle and putting water to boil for tea. Maybe she would like a bit of lemongrass and chamomile which he used to help him sleep when his headaches got too bad.

“Jamie?”

He turned to her. 

“I wanted to say thank you for agreeing to marry me. I know that you did it out of kindness because you knew I was in trouble. I... didn’t think that anyone would be that selfless.”

Jamie nodded and took her hand with its silver ring in his and brought it up to his heart in an unspoken promise. She was his wife and he would honor her.

Claire saw the earnestness in his bright blue eyes and knew she had the right choice. She may never grow to love him but she would try her very best to make him a good wife. 

Her new husband was a striking man that cut a fine figure. Jamie was tall, lean and fit from his work if a bit ragged around the edges. He had remarkably expressive eyes and a sweet curve to his mouth that begged to be kissed just so but what she liked the most was his lovely russet hair that tumbled about his face in soft curls.

The ladies at Leoch had all lamented that the former Laird of Lallybroch had been brought so low by his injury. He’d been quite the catch before the axe had denied him his birthright. It was said that he was left not only mute but simpleminded as well. Mrs Fitz had decried this. Jamie was not slow-witted but grew a bit confused when faced with too many people and too much noise. She understood but was sad when he left the castle in favor of the life of a struggling crofter.

Mrs Fitz had told Claire that she was worried that the he would turn bitter due to his circumstances but he had not. He was still sweet and generous even though he had very little left to him. She had urged Claire to accept Dougal’s proposal of marrying her off to Jamie. She could keep him company and he would keep her safe.

Without thinking any further she pressed her lips against his and closed her eyes. Jamie’s breath hitched, his heart beat faster and he opened his lips invitingly, urging her to go further. She did and the kiss grew deeper and more passionate until they came apart but with their foreheads still pressing together.

He couldn’t say anything to her but nuzzled her neck gently learning her scent as if he were a horse greeting a new rider but went no further. She watched and understood that he had a different language from her. One of touches and gazes and breaths. He liked her and wanted her closer but was willing to give it as much time as she wanted. 

Eventually they separated albeit a little reluctantly. Jamie went to remove the kettle from its hook and added a sachet of herbs to an old cracked teapot covering them in hot water to steep. The aroma was pleasant and familiar to Claire and she breathed it in appreciatively.

Jamie indicated with his hands that he would go to tend to the mule and horse and settle them down for the night. Claire nodded and wished him luck with the irascible Gideon. She had a feeling her horse would be taught a much needed lesson if not by Jamie certainly by Clarence.

In the meantime she removed her riding dress, boots and stockings placing them all in a chair by the fire. There was a basket of mending next to it and she felt a little sad that it was Jamie who’d had to do such things for himself after working his fields and caring for his animals. Well no longer, he had a wife now and she would look after him.

Claire was in her shift and stays waiting to be unlaced by her husband. She opened some cabinet doors until she located two mismatched mugs to pour the tea into. Jamie entered the cottage and froze at the sight of his wife in deshabille.

“Can you help me with my corset please?” She asked and he went to her eagerly. 

It took him a while to figure out how to undo the lacing,having never done it before, but at last only the thin shift enveloped her. He swallowed and stood still waiting for further guidance.

“Do you mind if we just have our tea and go to sleep. I am not denying you but I would like to wait a little longer. Can we?”

Jamie nodded. Happy with having been kissed and wondered if she would let him hold her a bit. He’d never had a woman in his bed and especially not one that was his own. To him she was like a gift he’d been granted even when he lacked the voice to even ask for it. She was very precious to him.

When it was time for them to go to bed she interpreted his gaze and welcomed him into her arms. He asked no more of her than her warmth and they settled down comfortably. Within moments the emotional upheaval of what had been their wedding day drew them to sleep together for the first night of many to come.

Tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have their first kiss and their first night. The next chapter will have them growing even closer and being a bit more daring with each other. I welcome all ideas as I don’t still have a clear path with this story. Thank you for taking the time to comment and check out the wonderful drawings of Clarence, Jamie and Claire.


	4. In which things go slightly awry

Claire awoke to the smell of freshly cooked porridge and mint tea. She had slept surprisingly well in Jamie’s arms. His natural body heat had kept her warm throughout their first night as husband and wife. 

She watched him as he carefully stirred the porridge in the pot to bring it to consistency. Claire could tell he’d done this countless of times. Like all Scots, her bridegroom would not start his day without a concoction of oats, water and salt. Anything else would be considered sacrilege. 

He had dressed in an old kilt over a heavily mended sark. He was barefoot and his hair had not yet been combed so that the copper curls stood every which way making him look rather adorable..

“Good morning Jamie”

Her husband turned to her with a ready smile that made his blue eyes gleam. It was clear that he was pleased at having her there which eased her misgivings quite a bit. She’d been nervous that he might have regretted his decision in the light a new day but apparently this wasn’t so. In fact he looked quite happy with her presence.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked politely but with a knowing smile of her own. He came to her side and placed a single kiss on the tip of her nose. It was an innocent gesture that he followed with a more intimate kiss on her lips while embracing her. Claire was surprised to feel herself begin to feel something stir in her at the press of Jamie’s body on her own. It was a slight raising of her pulse at the nearness of his form. She suddenly became aware that it would not be much longer before she’d let him have what was his by right. 

In the meantime she extended a careful hand to the opening of his sark revealing his long neck and a large portion of his chest. His skin was very warm as she ran her fingers through beautifully shaped muscles dusted with reddish gold hair. He bore her touch with the grace of a man enraptured by the new experience. She wondered if he ever felt someone caress him like that before as he was still fairly young.

“How old are you Jamie?”

He held up two fingers in each hand playfully. 

22, a boy still and one very much left alone in his silence. A castoff young man who was now her husband.

“I’m twenty six” she admitted rather painfully.

He looked surprised for a bit but shrugged. The difference in their ages did not matter to him and neither did the fact that his lady had been an old maid when he wed her.

Jamie brought her a bowl of porridge and watched as she enthusiastically partook of his efforts. The meal was simple but delicious. He’d added a bit of honey and some wild berries for taste. It was a far cry from the elaborate breakfasts at Leoch but she was much happier here than it the great hall. She’d been a guest at the keep but here Claire was finally home.

While she’d been asleep he’d brought her three trunks inside. Claire had decided to keep her clothes in one of the trunks as there was very little space in the cottage to store them properly. As it was only a few wool dresses would serve her here. Most of her clothes consisted of silks not suitable for the wife of a struggling crofter. She meant to work alongside him so her dresses needed to be durable. Maybe the fancier pieces could be sold to purchase other things that they might need.

Jamie laid a hand on her shoulder and motioned to the door. Clarence, Gideon and the other animals would be needing their breakfast as well which he would see to. Claire told him that she would get dressed and join him momentarily. She wanted him to show her everything about the farm she would help in running from now on.

Claire dressed with care foregoing her laces in favor of comfort. The blue wool dress she chose could gathered at the hem which would protect it from muck. She put a light knitted shawl over it and pinned her hair up but ignored the lace cap Mrs Fitz had insisted she bring with her. Jamie did not seem like the type who would mind if his wife’s hair was uncovered.

She put on her boots and went outside to the stables. The air had grown a bit chilly and she was glad she’d worn the shawl. Jamie had not worn his jacket when he left the cottage so she took it with her. It would not do for her husband to be cold as he went about his work.

Upon entering the stable, she came upon a sight she would not soon forget. Gideon had managed to snag Jamie’s shirt collar in his teeth and was using it to pull him towards him for a chance at the tender flesh of his neck. Jamie was trying his best to dislodge the animal without hurting him but was not really succeeding. Clarence, in the stall directly across from the horse, was braying furiously while stomping at the door of his stall to dislodge the flimsy hatch. He’d almost managed to accomplish it when Clare ran to Gideon and threw Jamie’s jacket across his eyes. The horse bucked in panic at finding himself blinded and finally released the shirt dropping Jamie to the floor in an unceremonious thump.

“Oh my goodness.” Claire said while she went to check on Jamie who was rising from the floor, unhurt but red as a beet from embarrassment. His pride had taken quite a tumble because he’d been raised breaking colts in Lallybroch but now an infernal beast had gotten the best of him in a few seconds. He’d been so stupid to turn his back on Gideon which he would have never done if his faculties had been intact. Wasn’t there anything that his injury hadn’t taken from him?

Gideon had dislodged the garment from his eyes and was now doing his best to stomp Jamie’s only jacket to pieces in retribution. Claire quickly assessed her husband for any injuries even as he shied away from her questing hands. He wouldn’t meet her eyes but went to Clarence instead to calm the angry mule. Jamie stroked the animals muzzle while blowing softly into his nose. The mule responded to the soothing actions and quieted down. He was angry still but would not be seeking to murder Gideon by kicking him to death just yet.

Claire retrieved the jacket from Gideon now much worse for wear and in desperate need of patching. Jamie sighed as the tartan garment had been one of the few things in his wardrobe that was still in good shape. He wasn’t vain in any sense of the word but it was sometimes difficult to find himself looking more and more like a struggling peasant and less like a Laird. It was fitting, he thought grimly.

“I’m sorry” she said guiltily . “I’ll try to fix it”

Jamie shook his head and bade his expression to change. It was only a jacket after all. He didn’t want his bride to feel bad for the actions of her horse especially when the animal in question felt no regrets judging by the resentful look in his eyes. He supposed that Gideon thought him beneath his mistress which he guessed was a correct assessment of the matter.

They exited the stable together leaving Gideon and Clarence to glare at each other from their respective stalls. Both animals have been fed and watered but Jamie had yet to figure out how to keep them from attacking each other when released into the outside pen where the mule spent most of the day when not working.

They went back to the cottage and Jamie washed his hands from the muck in the basin. Claire laid the jacket on the chair near the fire inspecting the damage. She would make her stitches tiny so it wouldn’t look so mended but the tear was very large.

Jamie caught her looking glum and went to her. He took the jacket in his hands and summarily dropped on the floor. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered as much as her.

She caught the meaning in his gesture. Gideon was just another pest to overcome but the horse had come into his life with his wife. She was his most precious dream come to life. Claire balanced all the scales in Jamie’s favor as far as he was concerned.

He kissed his wife then. Her lips were tender and welcoming. Jamie could feel the spark between them growing steadily into something that would culminate with their joining. They weren’t ready yet but it was already in the air. It wouldn’t be much longer.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Claire sets out to become the perfect crofter’s wife and Jamie is offended at seeing his lady working like a drudge. The weevil war resumes and Gideon plots.


	5. In which Gideon seethes and Jamie plans

Weeks later.

After much consideration, Gideon had decreed that the situation needed to be remedied somehow. He had yet to figure out just how but with enough time he would have it. He was a very smart horse after all.

Bloodlines were important, as was the coupling of likely partners. It wouldn’t do to pair a filly of careful breeding with a horse or donkey meant to pull the plow. Such mistakes would result in lesser horses or even worse, mules.

His mistress’ union with the shabby farmer was similarly unsuitable and beneath her. She was a lady used to fine homes and he a horse used to finer stables not rickety ones that would probably not withstand a strong storm. It was true that he could not complaint too much as his other needs were met. The feed was passable and readily available but there was a clear distinction made between him and the mule. Said animal, whose name he did not care to remember, was treated by the farmer in an affectionate manner not befitting his inferior status as a mule. He was patted on his nose many times and his overlong ears were scratched far too often.

Gideon’s spectacular reddish brown coat was brushed regularly but the process was fairly impersonal. The horse snorted indignantly through all of it but he’d stopped trying to bite the farmer for it would only lead to his mistress throwing another coat at him which annoyed him tremendously. Even so he did not see the reason why he too could not have his ears scratched.

Another point of contention was the fact that the mule would go with the man whenever it was time to tend to the fields. Sometimes he would carry something or be set to pull the cart but for the most part he would just accompany him with no set purpose. Gideon was left in the small fenced pasture to amuse himself which he found most unfair especially when considering that he was much more worthwhile than the mule as well as better company.

He would have been less unhappy if his mistress had taken the time to give him some attention but she was busy from dawn to dusk. She was taken up with planting a garden with carrots and herbs and such. One day he’d even seen her built a fire outside the cottage and set to boil a gigantic cauldron with clothes. The noxious odor emitting from the pot had made him sneeze all morning. She’d given him an apple as an apology but that wasn’t nearly enough to compensate for the inconvenience.

Gideon was not happy but even he had to admit that his mistress was. It was very subtle but Gideon had known Claire since he was a gangling foal which had taught him to read her moods fairly well. She toiled throughout the day engaged in this and that but in late afternoon, as she waited at the door for the farmer and the mule to return, a swell of joy settled on her. His mistress grew happy in his presence. He too always seemed extraordinarily pleased at seeing her and all but ran to where she awaited him. Gideon thought it all very undignified.

He didn’t understand it or like it but he had yet to figure out how to bring it to an end.

x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Claire’s eyes were falling shut from tiredness as she pulled the needle through the cloth of Jamie’s newly torn sark. She was sitting in the chair in front of the fire with her husband in the floor next to her. Jamie’s back rested against her skirts as it had been their custom for weeks. Sometimes he would lay his head on her lap and pout until she dropped whatever she was doing and run her fingers through his soft curls. This relaxed both of them but tonight she did not have the energy for even that. It was still early but Claire had worked herself to exhaustion. Jamie pulled the mending from her hands and set it inside the basket. He rose and took her in his arms ignoring her token protestations and carried her to bed. They’d grown quite comfortable with each other over weeks so he did not have any hesitation in taking off her dress and shoes and drawing the bedclothes over her body.

“Come to bed with me” she entreated softly as he bent down to kiss her goodnight.

Jamie grinned and removed his kilt laying it carefully on the chair she just vacated. He climbed into the bed in his sark and nuzzled her neck gently until she gave in and opened her arms so he could settle himself tightly against her as was his preference. Claire was always moved by how much Jamie craved her touch. He loved being held, caressed and kissed. Even without words he managed to express what he wanted trusting his wife to not reject him which she never did. It would have been too cruel to extinguish the light of happiness from his eyes and besides she too loved the feel of him.

Claire sighed and pressed the palm of her hand against the smooth skin of his newly shaved cheek. Jamie frowned and took her hand in his to examine it. 

“Oh. I guess the calluses are beginning to form. It must be all that weeding. Did you know that there are weevils in the potato shoots?””

Jamie nodded for once not bothered by the weevils as much as the state of his wife’s hands. She was a lady of gentle breeding, not a farmhand. It was inexcusable that her hands would be damaged so.

“It’s alright Jamie. I don’t mind and you work even harder.”

But he did mind. It said a lot about him and the fulfillment of his duties as a man and as a husband. She shouldn’t have to struggle when she had him to provide for her. It didn’t matter if he worked himself to the bone but not Claire. Jamie needed to do better for his wife’s sake. 

He could keep her fed but there were other things that ladies needed that were out of his budget. Maybe he could hire himself out as a stable hand in the mornings but folks really didn’t like someone they couldn’t communicate with.

Jamie sighed and thought about his lost birthright. Claire would have made a wonderful Lady Broch Tuarach even if he could no longer have been Laird. When he woke up after his injury, he’d been so scared at the muddle in his mind and the loss of his voice. Colum and Dougal had wanted him shut away permanently in the monastery but he refused to constraint his life like that. He was only nineteen and mute but he believed that he could still have some value in the world even if it was only a little bit. His sister Jenny had pleaded with him to return home and he’d considered doing so. He was terrified of having to make his way in the world without being able to be understood but he knew that in Lallybroch he would be treated like a child that needed sheltering for his remaining years. This would be little better than life cloistered in a monastery. So Jamie deeded Lallybroch to his nephew and chose the uncertainty of having to hardscrabble a living out of the unforgiving dirt. Yes he was poor and obscure but at least he had the cottage and the fields where he could breathe fresh air and feel at peace. For three years he had the fruits of his labors and the company of his mule and nothing else but now he had a wife and maybe someday bairns who would come to rely on their father. He needed to build something to pass on to them.

He had an idea but it was a lofty one especially for a man that could not even speak. Jamie would need to be smart and figure out how to clear the bugs from his growing barley crop. The plants would have to be in top shape before he could begin to undertake what he planned to do, 

Jamie kissed Claire’s damaged hands and silently promised to do better for her.

Tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head I see Gideon ruminating about the disparity between him and Clarence while his tail switches back and forth like and angry cat. It will definitely come to a showdown between mule and horse. As for Jamie we know that pride often rules him as it did in his decision to give up Lallybroch. He knew he could not be Laird and wouldn’t be any less. Coming up: things finally progress for Jamie and Claire or let’s see if Jillian can finally write a sex scene. Thank you for your comments and a special thanks to Cantrix-grisea for the wonderful artwork.


	6. Pain

Something was wrong.

Claire’s healer instinct was on high alert as she tried to get her bearings quickly enough to be able to respond to whoever needed help. She’d been deeply asleep but her subconscious mind could detect the scent of cold sweat associated with acute pain. 

Jamie.

His large body was curled up in a tight ball with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He’d buried his face in them just as a hurting child would have. Jamie’s entire body appeared wracked with pain drawing the muscles of his back tightly across his shoulders. 

She tried coaxing his arms away from his face but he held on tightly so the only thing she could do was pull them apart with a bit of force. She found Jamie sobbing miserably.

“Where does it hurt Jamie?”

He touched his forehead and his temple. His eyes were shut closed and his breathing was labored. 

Claire touched the left side of his face with the back of her hand. The skin was clammy and tear streaked. “Jamie please open your eyes. I need to examine them.”

He shook his head no and gasped at the pain that slight movement caused.

“Please Jamie. Do it for me”

Jamie grimaced painfully but complied. Claire turned his head towards the brighter flames of the fire and peered into his eyes. The pupils were enlarged. 

There was a candle on a table a few feet from the bed. She retrieved it and quickly lit it in the fireplace. She returned to his side and drew it close to his face.

“Oh sweetheart. I’m sorry. “

He turned away from her hiding his misery in the pillow. He was so distraught from pain and fear that it broke her heart.

“Please don’t be scared love. I swear that this isn’t permanent Jamie. It will go away when the pain does. I’ll give you something that will help” she promised soothingly.

Claire went to the shelves that Jamie had cleared for her herbs and medicinal oils that she’d brought from Leoch. She quickly located what she needed and brought it back with her as well as a clean rag dipped in cold water. 

She coaxed her husband to lay flat in the bed putting the cold compress across his eyes. It was better for his emotional state that his eyes be covered until he could regain use of them. The debilitating pain had taken his sight leaving him in turmoil. She had to fix it and soon before he went mad. 

Whatever was torturing him was beyond a simple headache. It had blinded him and something told her that it wasn’t the first he’d experienced that. A brain injury had taken Jamie’s speech three years ago but that might not have been the only damage done. The lesion was causing another set of symptoms which she would attempt to treat.

Peppermint and lavender oils to calm the nerves and release stored tension from the body. Feverfew and butterbur tea to treat bad headaches. Cherry and willow bark were her pain killers for stronger bouts. Then essence of laudanum whenever the pain was too severe to be withstood. 

As she was carefully considering her options, his left hand extended towards her. She took it into her own and let him trace letters into her palm.

S-O-R-Y

Oh her sweet Jamie. Poor love, even now he would think of her.

She dropped the herbs in the teapot to boil. The oils she would warm by rubbing them in her hands. As for the laudanum...she hoped it wouldn’t get to that.

Claire lifted the cold compress from his eyes but asked him to keep them closed for now. She poured a bit of the lavender oil in her hand an massaged along Jamie’s hairline and temple. Lavender was known for its soothing effect on the troubled mind and she hoped it would alleviate his distress. It must be so agonizing to be mute and then to lose your sight as well. She knew her Jamie enough to understand that independence was worth a great deal to him. To be rendered sightless would rob him of any chance of that. He would be reliant on others for his sustenance and this would kill him.

Jamie did not react to her ministrations except to try to gather closer to her. He always wanted to be physically near and now even more so that he could not see her.

The tea was ready and Claire rose to fetch him a cup only to be stopped by his fingers wrapped around her skirts holding on to her.

“Sweetheart, please let go” she pleaded but he wouldn’t. She sighed and sat next to him on the bed allowing his arms to go around her waist.

“Do not worry. I will never leave you” she promised quietly.

Everyone had set him aside when he became mute. It wasn’t a stretch that he would believe she would abandon him if he were blinded as well.

“This is not permanent love but even if it were, I would stay by your side, work the fields myself and keep you safe. You are my husband and I am your wife and we are meant to be together no matter what.”

His tears started anew then but he let go allowing her to fetch the tea. She helped him sit up so that he could drink the medicinal tea with ease. He sipped the bitter concoction slowly until it was gone while Claire cleansed his face gently with a moistened cloth, wiping the tears away.

Jamie leaned forward, nuzzling her until she opened her arms and allowed him to rest in them. Claire leaned back against the pillow and held him, gently caressing his hair. She had added a couple of drops of laudanum to his tea. He fell asleep within minutes but Claire remained awake. She prayed that the pain would be gone and his sight restored when he awoke.

He resurfaced from his stupor late in the morning the next day. Claire’s entire body ached from the loss of circulation but she could not help but laugh when he opened his blue cat eyes at her and smiled happily.

X-X-X-X-X

Something changed for them after that night. Jamie returned to his fields and Claire to her household tasks but there was an awareness that wrapped around both of them. The knowledge that their marriage was true if still unconsummated.

Claire would catch Jamie looking at her with adoration shining in his eyes. He wanted her and she too desired to grow even closer to him. She was surprised to feel the stirrings of passion in her innermost parts whenever he drew her near. Everything about Jamie called to her from his musky scent to his tender touch. His mere physical presence in their cottage was enough to start her heart beating faster. Had she come to fall in love with her sweet and devoted husband in just a couple of months?

For Jamie the questions had already been answered. He waited patiently for Claire to finally open up to him and finally allow him inside. He wouldn’t rush her but each day that passed was harder for him. The young man was driven nearly mad with desire. Jamie wanted his wife desperately.

And on one rainy night the stars aligned. Nothing would ever be the same between them.

 

TBC. Sorry I have to go to work.


	7. One rainy night part 1

It had been raining since early afternoon and it did not look like the weather would improve any time soon. Jamie was soaking wet as he worked at replacing yet another wooden slat that had cracked open in the goat pen. 

Clarence was standing next to him supervising Jamie’s progress. The mule would have preferred to remain in his warm, comfortable stall but the demonic horse had elected to stay in the stables so Clarence made himself scarce. Not that he couldn’t face down the annoying horse but today he just wasn’t feeling up to it.

He brayed approvingly when Jamie hammered the last slat into the fence. Jamie flicked one of the donkey’s ears teasingly and the animal responded by chewing on his hair. The exchange was par for the course for the pair.

Jamie smiled at his faithful steed. Clarence was so much better than that his lady’s crazy horse. Once upon a time he’d dreamed of having his own equine mount but now he wouldn’t mind if Gideon decided to gallop back to Leoch. Clarence would be able to reclaim the stables but Jamie’s wife would likely miss the hellish animal and he would never want anything that would pain his Claire.

His Claire. It was quite heady to think that she belonged to him and him to her. He’d never really thought he would be lucky enough to have a wife after his injury but fate had had given him a most precious gift for which he was very thankful.

But was she as happy with him? Did her heart beat for him as his did whenever she was near? These questions plagued the young man constantly. His lady cared for him and treated him well but that could just be kindness towards a lonely mute who had only a mule for a best friend and a wee croft to keep himself fed. 

Claire was a wonderful woman. She was brave, hardworking and just so lovely. She’d married him and made a home for them out of the little bit he could give her. His lady never complained because their cottage was too small or her husband’s conversation limited to just looks and smiles. Maybe she’d grown to care for him or maybe she just felt sorry for him.

But he... he had come to love her fiercely and with every part of his heart. The parts that were still whole as well as the parts that had been broken and trampled on by desolation. Maybe more so with those ripped apart bits because loving her gave them value. 

Clarence bumped him the head with his muzzle as he tended to do whenever Jamie became too maudlin for his taste. The mule was a firm believer in not letting circumstances bring down your mood and Jamie for the most part subscribed to his way of thinking. 

Christ. Now he was taking life lessons from a mule.

At last the task was completed so Jamie and Clarence headed back towards the stables. Clarence was set on a good rub down which he received while Gideon glared at the pair through the entire process. Jamie fed both animals their dinner and then left to do one more round of his lands. Everything seemed to be in order. In a few weeks it would be time to harvest and take the surplus to the market so that it may be sent on to the cities. He never really got much from his crops even when they were weevil free because buyers tended to shortchange someone they believed to be slow-witted as well as mute.

Last season he’d gotten so little for his potatoes that he had all but cried in frustration. Only his pride had kept him standing still as the buyers moved on to the next crofter who could actually argue for a better price. It would do to take Claire with him as she was able to communicate but it also made him ashamed that he would have to put something else on his wife because he was lacking.

Jamie rubbed at the back of his neck to ease the tension there. Clarence was right. All he seemed to be doing lately was worry himself to another attack which would only serve to upset Claire. He needed to relax and trust that everything would work out fine in the end.

Jamie squared his shoulders and shook the rain from his hair. He’d no doubt that his lady would be waiting for him with something warm and tasty. He was not disappointed when the smell of jam cake and peppermint tea greeted him. His wife was an enthusiastic baker and he was the happy recipient of her efforts.

Claire was mashing some linseed flax in her pestle for a poultice. He came up behind her and embraced her warmly, almost lifting her a little in his enthusiasm. 

She scolded him in mock anger. “Jamie! You’re all wet. Get out of those clothes and put them in the chair by the fire so they can dry.”

He turned her around and kissed her sweetly. Claire responded by relaxing into his arms as their bodies pressed against each other and their lips opened up. Recently, their kisses had grown more urgent and often left them more than a little heated. 

After a while they broke the kiss and Jamie went to do his wife’s bidding. He spread his kilt on the chair straightening the folds carefully so that the tartan could dry properly. He turned around to look for his spare shirt when he caught her looking at him with intensity in her eyes. 

Jamie was wet from the rain and the thin material of his sark clung to his arms and belly. His hard work had delineated the muscles in his body so that each stood out in relief in a most becoming way. Claire was drawn to his form and longed to run her hands across his skin while delighting in the honest beauty of him. 

Her silent love. Her Jamie. 

Her untouched husband. There was no guile in his blue eyes but there was a desperate need which she responded to with that of her own. They had been dancing around each other for weeks now but seeing him nearly nude and wanting lit a flame inside her that only he could quench.

She did not know why but she found herself tugging at the strings of her apron until the coarse garment fell on the ground. She went for her skirts next only to be stopped by his hand on hers. 

No, his eyes told her. It’s my privilege.

With shaking fingers, Jamie disrobed his wife slowly. Each article of clothing was removed with fitting reverence. The corset strings were undone inch by inch until they gave way to reveal her shift. She usually slept by his side wearing it but tonight it was the final barrier between them.

“I want to see you” she whispered. Jamie nodded and removed his sark. The sight of his naked body took her breath away and she could not stop herself from reaching out to touch him.

He was solid and warm. The curved valleys of his chest and torso heaved at the feel of her hands on him. She looked up to see that his eyes had fallen shut as if trying to internalize her touch. Claire circled his body slowly, her fingers caressing his hips, his backside and finally him,

Jamie opened his eyes and unraveled the tie holding her shift shut. The garment slid of her body piling around her feet. He gasped at the sight.

She was so beautiful and if he could speak he would be telling her so. If he had a voice he would have given her the secrets of his soul. He had imagined her but the reality of Claire eclipsed those empty fantasies meant to comfort a lonely man. She was so much more than that faceless woman who would hold him in the nights when the silence overwhelmed him. 

Claire touched his cheek lightly and Jamie blinked. He hadn’t known that he’d been crying. 

“Its fine Jamie. I understand”

She knew that Jamie had never learned to hide what he was feeling. In the months since their marriage Claire had discovered that her husband was sweet, kind and a little broken inside. It was on her to comfort, heal him and try to give him some of the happiness that he’d been denied.

She guided his trembling hands to her breasts and he pressed on the soft mounds with adoration. He could scarcely breathe.

“Do not be afraid love. I’m here now and I am entirely yours.”

And he was entirely hers.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m of two minds about how to proceed. Do you think Jamie should eventually regain his voice or stay as he is? It is a bit of a challenge to have him express himself without words but it is also makes every little touch and look that much more special. Claire is also not talking as much as you would expect her too. It’s like they are ensconced in their own little world where words do not matter as much. At the same time I miss not hearing Jamie’s voice and his interactions with Claire. I just can’t decide.


	8. One rainy night Part 2

She had known without being told that he was innocent. There was an endearing clumsiness to his lovemaking, an eagerness to not disappoint her that melted her heart. He’d never had a woman to love him and now that he’d did he was deliriously happy. Claire was charmed by the little gasps of air that would have been moans if not for his muteness. 

In between their joining, she guided him to lie back which he did readily but not without a questioning glance. Jamie watched mesmerized as her mouth pressed against the tight little nub of his nipple and lightly bit it. The pained pleasure of the action caused him to lose his breath and more so as her lips travelled down his torso leaving the tingling of tiny nips in their wake. At last she reached the most intimate part of him. Jamie arched his back as the swell of sensation crashed through him. His fingers curled, gripping the sheets in his fervor, trying to reach out to her but prevented from doing so by the hand that pressed against his chest. She did not want him to rise just yet. He whipped his head sideways and closed his eyes, giving in to his helplessness and to her command of his body. Jamie was in heaven and Claire had taken him there.

x-x-x-x

The night was long and the light rain was a soothing sound in the background. Inside the tiny cottage, Claire braced her legs around Jamie’s thighs drawing him even closer as he thrust into her. She lifted her hips instinctively to hold him in as he poured everything he had into her. Her fingernails raked his back leaving faint red streaks but Jamie didn’t mind or even notice. He was lost in the throes of a passion he’d kept carefully shuttered away because there could never be anybody for him. But here she was.

A dreamy smile curled his lips and Claire smiled back, tenderly stroking his damp curls away from his face. He’d been wonderful and she was honored to have him. Jamie Fraser was a gift.

She would never forget the look in his eyes for as long as she lived. As they came together, the emotion that had burned on its depths gave the blue orbs a gemlike glow, like a smooth sapphire catching the late morning sunlight. Claire had never seen anything as beautiful as her husband captivated by his first experience of sexual pleasure . 

As for him, Jamie knew that even if Dougal and the entire McKenzie clan came to take Claire back he would not be parted from her. She’d become the center of his existence and he would protect her to his last breath. He realized the hollowness of his life before Claire and wished he could tell her how she had given his life meaning, purpose and a connection he’d never thought possible. Without her he would simply wither away, unable to return to the solitude which he’d been accustomed to.

“Did you like it?” She asked quietly already knowing the answer.

He nodded eagerly and cuddled even closer, his memories of sleeping alone in this very bed distressed him a bit. They were face to face and Jamie pointed his finger at her chest. Had he pleased his wife? He’d thought so but he was too inexperienced to be able to tell for sure. 

“I liked it too. I liked it a lot.”

Jamie grinned, feeling much like a peacock with its tail feathers newly spread. Claire kissed her usually modest spouse, relishing in his bout of masculine pride. Eventually, their kissing grew heated and they fell into their newly emerging rhythm again. Jamie was able to hold on to himself a bit longer this time, learning the intricacies of his wife’s body and what each touch, caress, thrust did to her. He absorbed the knowledge like a sponge, calibrating his moves based on her reaction, eager to satisfy her while delighting in his enjoyment of their union. Jamie had never been happier.

At last they lay spent in each other’s arms. Their bodies were deliciously tired from their exertions but Jamie rose naked and went to the pantry were they kept their precious dry goods like sugar and milled flour for bannocks. He rummaged through the shelves until he pulled a dusty amber bottle. His much guarded sole bottle of whiskey.

Claire watched as he uncorked the treasure and poured it in the two tin mugs that they owned. He returned to their bed and presented her with one.

“I thought we were saving it for when we got the weevils cleared from the barley?” Claire inquired as she took the proffered mug.

Jamie shook his head. What had occurred between them was much more significant than eradicating a crop pest.

She shrugged and clicked her mug against his.

“Slainte and bottoms up.”

They drank their fine aged whiskey, savoring the perfect taste. Jamie silently toasted his beautiful bride who had become truly his tonight. 

After a few more rounds they finished their bottle and fell into their bed savoring the unfamiliar inebriation. Their naked bodies tangled around each other as they finally succumbed to much needed sleep together.

x-x-x-x  
Jamie woke up to the first rays of the dawning sun. He could hear the birds begin their morning salutations outside his window. Their chirps were cheerfully celebrating the end to the rain and the subsequent worm feast they would enjoy. Jamie was so elated that he longed to join them in their song but alas he’d been tone deaf even before he’d lost his voice. With much reluctance he extricated himself from Claire’s arms and walked as quietly as possible to the bookcase he’d built to house her collection. Jamie touched the volumes appreciatively. He’d read many of them already but loved when he could convince her to read them out loud so he could not only enjoy the story but the cadence of his wife’s voice. This time he grabbed the two books that were his own and inspected them until he found a blank page in his useless “Farmer’s guide to the common pest”.

Jamie tore the paper and searched for the stationary box where Claire kept her quills and ink. He had none for himself as he was too poor to afford either but thought she wouldn’t mind if he borrowed hers.

He finished his letter and signed it, waiting until it was dry to fold it. He would leave in her pillow for her to find as soon as she woke. Inside he had laid the most intimate part of his heart held open for her perusal. The last threshold between had been crossed and he would mark it with his confession of love. Jamie hoped that she would accept it even if she could not reciprocate it. He was humble enough to love her without expecting more than her kindness in return but it would break his heart if kindness was all she had for him.

He kissed the letter and placed it next to his sleeping wife. 

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you so much for all your advice regarding where to go next. It was fairly split between Jamie getting his voice back and not but I think I have a notion as to how to proceed. I will definitely incorporate some of your ideas such as having him write to her which he did in this chapter. We will not be seeing Jamie’s letter just yet but Claire will keep it with her and use it as a talisman (figuratively speaking) when she needs it later in the story. However, the next chapter will have her reaction to Jamie’s confession. Hope you enjoyed.


	9. The letter

The rays of the late morning sun shone through the cottage’s east facing window. Claire was lying amidst a cocoon of warm knitted blankets. Her hair was a tangled halo that covered most of her face leaving only her reddened lips visible. She stretched luxuriously, the small aches and pains of a very active night pulled at every muscle. A slight pang in her womb made her flush with emotion when she remembered holding her husband inside of her.

Said husband was nowhere to be found. Jamie, dutiful as always, had already gone to his fields like he’d done every day at first light. She felt ashamed that he’d started his morning on an empty stomach when he worked so hard. Claire resolved to make his lunch extra filling and take it to him. She sat up and noticed the folded piece of card stock under his pillow. Jamie had no paper and she only had a few sheets of stationery which she knew he wouldn’t touch. The uneven edges told her that he’d sacrificed a page from one of his books, most likely the insect guide.

With something akin to wonderment, she opened the letter and was still as her silent husband’s words poured over her.

 

My dearest wife:

I see you lying in our bed. Your pretty whiskey eyes are closed tight against the first light of dawn. My lady is not yet ready to greet the new day and why should you be? T’is my duty to provide for you. My one calling to see to your welfare for you are mine to treasure and I am grateful for the honor of doing so. You are lovely beyond words mo nighean donn. I’ve been calling you that in my head for many weeks now. It means my brown haired lass in the gaidhlic. I hope you don’t mind.

I wish to ask you if you have found a bit of happiness here with me. I know that the life of a struggling crofter’s wife was not what you were meant for. You were born to be the lady of a manor, with a lovely home and fine dresses with servants attending to your every need. What I can give you is so far from those things that I am often ashamed to raise my eyes to you. My poverty, my affliction, my solitude are not things that I ever wished to share with anybody much less my lady but when Dougal told me you could be mine, I was so happy. Even then I think I knew.

Sometimes I wake up at in the morning and forget that you are here with me. Then I turn a bit and I see you lying next to me and it’s like the sun had just come out casting away all the shadows. I long to kiss you then but I have to restrain myself knowing that you would not appreciate being startled out of sleep just because your husband is a clot-heid who aches for his wife’s touch even when she’s resting. How is it that in just a few months I have come to depend on you so much that it scares me to think that I might someday lose you?

For you see I have fallen in love with you. You are the lass that my father told me of. The woman who would come into my life and make it whole. I thought that I had lost my chance to find you when I lost my voice but it wasn’t so. You are here with me mo nighean donn and its alI could wish of this world. 

I cannot dare hope that you feel the same for me. I am a not a proper husband to you. There is so much that I lack that it doesn’t even feel fair that I should ask you to love me so I won’t. My heart is yours to keep either way. I will protect you, lay the fruits of my labor at your feet and serve you with my body for as long as I should live. That is my solemn vow to you and I will keep it.

But my lady, I ask that if I cannot have your love, then may you bless with your patience. Forgive my longing gazes, my needy touches, my desperate kisses. I cannot help but want to be close to you Claire. You are my entire world.

Your devoted servant,

James Fraser

 

Claire held the paper to her chest as his words washed over her like rainwater. Here lay his heart in its entirety. He left it for her to keep or to reject. It was her choice alone.

She stumbled out of bed and pulled on her shift. In her haste she could not locate her cloak so merely drew his kilt around her shoulders. Fraser colors for a Fraser wife.

Claire ran out the cottage door and through the fields. She did not even register that she’d forgotten her shoes as well. At last she spotted him digging up the potato crop with Clarence at his side holding a sack with the ensuing harvest between his teeth.

Jamie must have heard her for he rose and turned towards her. She could see a slight tremor go through him as she approached him, walking slowly now with the solemnity of the occasion.

Everything seemed to quiet down. Claire could no longer hear the sound of birdsong or the rustling of the breeze amidst the barley crop. The world narrowed down to her and Jamie. 

Her husband’s blue eyes gleamed with anticipation and fear. He was waiting for her to decide on his happiness or lack thereof. Even as a healer she’d never held someone’s life in her hands as she did his this very moment.

Jamie looked down and his red curls hid his eyes. He must have been feeling so vulnerable. 

She pulled him to her and kissed him soundly .

“My love, my sweet, wonderful Jamie. You are my world as well. I love you.”

Jamie smiled and buried his face in her shoulder. Tears had sprung in his eyes and he let them flow unashamed. Claire too had begun to cry with unleashed sentiment. She was in love, they were in love.

Life had never seemed more promising.

The End

 

Just kidding. tbc. There is more to come including a trip to the market and a eventual return to Leoch. More from Clarence, Gideon and the weevils inhabiting the barley crop. And maybe, just maybe a sweet wee bairn for Jamie and Claire.


	10. A visitor

After that first night, Jamie discovered that he couldn’t bide being away from his wife for very long. It was with great reluctance that he left their bed every morning, wanting nothing more than to stay in its confines with Claire wrapped around him. 

Claire craved Jamie’s presence as well. She needed to touch him, feel his lips on hers and the texture of his work roughened hands on her body. They made love constantly, he eager and easily aroused and she wonderfully welcoming. Sometimes they could not wait to reach their bed and they christened their fields many a time with Clarence being politely distracted by anything he could think of like interesting cloud shapes.

Claire kept Jamie’s letter among the pages of her copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. To her Jamie’s prose was akin to the bard’s declarations of love. During the day she would constantly brush her hand against the book reassured by the physical reminder of her marital bond. A rosy flush touched her cheeks at the recollection of Jamie’s unabashed adoration of her. No other man, not even the lover that had driven her to Jamie’s arms, had expressed such sentiment as her silent husband had. No one had touched her so deeply or made her feel so much. He was truly unique.

She’d come to this marriage almost without hopes except of finding the kind, sweet man that Mrs Fitz had described. Claire was heartbroken and needed a bit of peace to heal from her emotional wounds from trusting a man that wasn’t worth it. Such foolish actions had been unlike her. She was an educated woman and a rational one. Her uncle had encouraged her to develop her own mind which she’d done alongside her healing skills. 

Maybe it was due to the death of her beloved guardian that she had lost her wits momentarily. Uncle Lambert had been her touchstone and without him she found herself adrift amongst strangers. It had made her easy prey to be taken advantage of and by the time she realized it she was doomed. She’d been labeled a woman of loose morals and summarily alienated. Claire was lucky not to have been lashed in the main hall but supposed that the McKenzie had believed that marrying her to his mute nephew was punishment enough.

But it hadn’t been a punishment at all. Jamie was a blessing.

If Claire thought highly of her husband, he had grown to believe she was the most perfect woman in the world. She was on his mind almost all the time and he would find himself smiling as he went about his day. He worked hard in his fields for all the sooner he could return to her and always rushed back to their cottage when his labor was done. A more seasoned man might resent this growing dependence but Jamie was too starved for love to restrain himself. His reaction was understandable. In the world of the Scottish highlands, men were judged not only by their wisdom and skill with the sword but by the strength of their words. A young, poor mute like Jamie had very little value to his clan and his uncles saw no reason to keep him around thus he’d been given a patch of fairly worthless land and summarily forgotten. Even his loving sister Jennie had not protested when he deeded his birthright to her son leaving himself naught but a pauper. After all, it was fitting that Lallybroch belonged to someone who would command the respect of his tenants and without words Jamie couldn’t.

It had been the right thing to do but it had pained Jamie nonetheless. He’d had dreams of being a great Laird like his father and having a large family of his own. When those dreams became unattainable he traded them for smaller ones like having a horse and a healthy crop. His innate optimism and good humor saw him through a very difficult adjustment when everything he’d relied on was simply gone. He’d slowly grown used to doing without human companionship and for the most part kept his loneliness at bay except a few dark days that he did not wish to remember. But fate had been kind and granted him Claire. She become his everything and he was deliriously happy by her side. Suddenly, the world seemed a much brighter place and his endless labor had a new important purpose of providing for his beloved and their future bairns. Life was no longer constrained by his limitations. He could love his wife and build a life with her. 

Such a life mostly centered around their cottage but on a uncommonly warm day, Jamie cajoled his wife in joining him for a ride on Clarence. She’d planned on using some berries she had foraged to make jam but Jamie had given her this sad, expectant look and her resolve melted. So off they were.

He took them to a nearby stream that was much larger than the one that ran through his fields. He sometimes came to fish here but he had never taken her with him. Jamie spread his spare kilt for Claire to sit on and set about catching some lunch for them. He was lucky and within the hour he had two large fish to show for his efforts. Claire had been equally busy and had collected wild mushrooms and garlic scapes to accompany the dish. She roasted them on the fire that Jamie had built and they soon had a fine meal. 

Once their bellies were full, Jamie set about tending to other appetites. He playfully lifted his wife’s skirts and removed her stockings and shoes. Claire laid back as Jamie explored her slim legs with his lips. He flicked his tongue against the ivory skin of her calves and ankles tasting her a little, learning the planes and curves and slowly moving up her body. 

He reached her sweet core and she moaned urging him to prove deeper. Jamie did so and soon she was screaming in pleasure. Jamie responded by increasing his efforts and Clarence found a cloud that looked like a duck. 

She climaxed with Jamie holding her as she shook in her release. He maneuvered her body so that she rested against his chest. 

“My God Jamie” she muttered while seeking his lips, tasting herself on them.

Jamie smiled. The image of his beloved writhing in the pleasure he gave her was one he would not soon forget.

The afternoon sun was beginning its descent when they set for home. Claire had found a few interesting herbs to bring home and identify as well as mushrooms for the evening stew. They rode Clarence slowly, enjoying the landscape as well as each other. Claire told him of a funny incident involving her, a new dress and a slippery stream. Jamie chuckled silently at the image of the young girl covered head to toe in mud the wee herb she’d been reaching out for clutched in her hand.

It was already dark when they reached their cottage. Claire felt Jamie stiffen next to her. Something was wrong.

He dismounted Clarence but indicated that she should stay on the mule. If there was a threat he trusted his best friend to get his wife to safety. Jamie’s knife was in his left hand as he approached their home slowly. He didn’t have to open the door as it swung wide open. A short, kilt wearing man who rather resembled a rat stepped out. 

“It seemed like I’ve been waiting till my auld age for ye to come. Where have ye been lazying off to yer wee gomerel?”

Jamie smiled and embraced the strange man warmly. It was clear to Claire that they had a strong familial connection to each other.

After a few seconds the man pushed Jamie away. “Enough of that. Now show me what I came so far to see. Where is the lassie that bastard Dougal McKenzie tricked you into taking to wife?”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your comments. I’m so glad you liked Jamie’s letter. It took me quite a bit of time to write because this is one of the few times we get to hear him “speak.” I do plan on having at least another letter but later on. Coming up some interesting exchanges between Claire and the “visitor”. He may not be willing to trust that Claire has the best intentions with Jamie. A brief preview:
> 
> “And what happens to the laddie when ye get tired of his ways and leave him? Ye better be ready to sink that knife into his heart for all the good it’ll do him when ye break it.”


	11. Murtagh

Initially Jamie was quite pleased with the presence of his godfather in his home. Murtagh visited him at least twice a year to see how he fared. He knew Jamie was too overworked to do much trapping so he would bring game for them to share. This time he had a pair of skinned rabbits which Claire set to roast to accompany her wild mushroom stew.

Claire was a bit nervous sensing how important Murtagh’s opinion of her was to Jamie. He knew that her husband held his godfather in high regard by the deference he demonstrated towards him. Jamie showed him all the work he’d done in the croft including the new paddock he’d built and the plot he’d marked out for Claire’s herb garden. Murtagh had muttered approvingly at the improvements. He was astonished when he was introduced to Gideon and judged him a “fine looking horse” with a “wicked temper best served a bull”. Jamie and Clarence nodded in agreement. Gideon sneered at the offense.

But what Jamie was most proud of was his wife. His blue eyes gleamed with adoration whenever they landed on her. Murtagh observed this but did not comment beyond a grim pursuing of his lips. Claire was a fine lady, very beautiful and completely wrong for his godson.

She would have been a suitable mate before Jamie’s injury. The young Laird had much to offer a wife then but now this wasn’t the case. He had been right to come here and put a stop to the marriage before it was too late.

Murtagh was not stupid and knew that he wouldn’t be able to persuade Jamie to forsake his wife. It was clear that the poor lad was enraptured with his bride but she might be otherwise.

On the second day of his visit Jamie had gone to feed his animals their morning meal but Murtagh had opted to stay behind on the pretense of wanting a third bowl of porridge. He watched Claire as she cleared the breakfast pots, carefully scrubbing them with wood ash and rinsing them in a bucket of clean water. She was certainly a bonny lass even in a faded dress with her hair all pinned up. This boded well for her when her marriage to Jamie was annulled. Claire would make a more suitable man a fitting bride.

For a minute Murtagh imagined how his godson would react at being left by his wife. He would certainly be hurt but he had only been married but a few months. Jamie was strong and would overcome the grief much better than he would when the lass abandoned him later. With time his attachment to her would grow which would make matters more difficult.

She finished her washing and turned to Murtagh with a friendly smile on her face only to be met by his stern face.

“What’s wrong Murtagh?”

The Scotsman sighed and cleared his throat loudly. Claire looked on puzzled.

“I do not agree with this marriage.”

Claire narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Because you and Jamie do not suit. You are a lady of learning used to society and means and he is a poor, ignorant laddie with no more friends than his animals.”

“Jamie is not ignorant.”

“He is book learned but his knowledge of the ways of the world halted at nineteen. Jamie was barely more than a wean when that bloody axe took everything away. Trust me lass when I say he would ha’ been a great man but instead he understands very little about being a proper husband to someone like yerself. Nay, the lad will do much better alone until the right lassie is found for him.”

Indignation settled in her belly. “The right lassie?”

“Aye. A woman that will not mind such a man for a partner. Maybe a needy widow with bairns would have him as long as he can keep this roof over their heids. “

Claire imagined this future woman who would come to take her place in her husband’s hearth and bed. She would be someone who would only appreciate him for the work he could do but not for the man that he was. Her Jamie would not be loved or wanted but merely tolerated. His passionate soul kept at heel and ignored. And what about her? She would be miserable without his touch, his smile, the weight of his body as he made love to her. No, she would never let that happen.

“Jamie is my husband and we love each other. “ she said with a certainty born of a woman who knows her man completely.

Murtagh snorted. “And what happens to the laddie when ye get tired of his ways and leave him? Ye better be ready to sink a knife into his heart for all the good it’ll do him when ye break it.”

Claire slapped her hand in anger on the table before Murtagh. “Do you think I would just abandon my husband? That I would forsake my vows?”

“Aye. Jamie’s a braw lad. He’s always been honest and good but he has no future. He has no real prospects beyond this wee croft that the McKenzies threw at him. He’s the true Laird of Lallybroch and their only nephew but they consider him naught but a beggar. It boils my blood that he was grateful to them as if this worthless land was a great boon, the fool, but a lady like ye is not gonna be happy wi’ so little.

Claire looked around the small cottage with pride. “This is my home.”

“For now. Maybe it’s a place for ye to lick yer wounds and hide away but time passes lass and the silence wears on ye. Jamie canna give you what other men give their wives. “

Claire was disgusted at his dismissal of her Jamie. “Just because he cannot speak...”

Murtagh shook his head impatiently. “It isn’t only that and ye ken it well. You’ve seen it. Somethin’ isn’t quite right in the lad’s heid. He’s too innocent for someone of his age, too trustin’.”

She turned away letting the truth of Murtagh‘ s words wash over her. Her beloved husband, her devoted Jamie who always allowed himself to be guided by her. He was completely devoid of guile and open hearted to a fault. A sweet child at his core.

“I know.” she admitted quietly. 

“Aye, I reckon ye do. I thought the lad safe enough here with with his crops and his animals. This place is isolated enough as to protect him from any body who would take advantage of him.”

Yes, he’d been sheltered but still. “But he was so alone. So lonely.”

“That’s true enough. I wanted him to live with me but he wouldn’t. His sister Jenny did as well but the lad dinna want to be coddled like a bairn which is what she does best. Jamie’s mind is not right but he wanted his independence no matter how much it would cost him. I came here with him and helped him buy his animals with the money he got from selling his mother’s pearls and his father’s ring. T’was the only things of value he had left and he was broken up to part with them but he did it anyway. I knew it pained him greatly but he wouldn’t take anything from me even though I’m his godfather. “

“That’s not Jamie. He wants to work for everything he has. He doesn’t want charity.” She said quietly.

“No he doesn’t. Jamie’s fiercely proud. He wanted a horse ye ken but he dinna have enough money so he got that strange mule instead. When Column saw that pathetic thing he gave him a filly from his stables but Jamie stuck to his mule even when Rupert laughed at him.” Murtagh remembered the vision of a younger Jamie leading his skinny flea-ridden mule with his head held high. A deep scarlet coloring his cheeks was the only sign that he heard the jesting at his expense.

“Clarence is very special. He’s a friend and he isn’t strange.”

Murtagh rolled his eyes impatiently. “Och now he’s got ye thinking foolishness like him. Never mind about the mule, what stands is that young Jamie is too muddled in the heid and too much a tenderhearted lad to make anyone a proper mate much less a lass like yerself. It’s best for ye to leave him now before he grows so attached that he willna heal when ye go.”

Claire felt the ire rise in her at Murtagh’s judgement of her marriage but before she could lash out Jamie burst through the door. His eyes were bright with anger as he took her into his arms and pulled her away from his godfather. He held her protectively against him and all but growled at Murtagh. Jamie’s arms were a steel cage against her smaller form and she reveled in his feral strength. No, he wasn’t going to lose her. She was his to have and to hold for as long as he drew breath. 

Murtagh recognized the feeling behind the gesture and quite a bit of his resolve melted. 

“Jamie lad, I only want to protect you like I promised yer mam.”

The younger man shook his head angrily. Murtagh, like everyone else, believed him a stupid child not worthy of the respect due a man. A slow-witted mute meant to be kept away and denied even the most common of aspirations. A wife and bairns were meant to be impossible dreams for someone like him but God had seen fit to grant him his lady and he would keep her no matter what his godfather thought.

He did not realize that he was shaking in anger until he felt Claire’s warm hand on his arm. His wife’s touch soothed him and he bent down to kiss her possessively. Claire welcomed his attentions as she too was shaken up by the prospect of being parted from him. 

Murtagh stood silently and watched the pair. It was quite obvious as he watched Jamie cling to his bride that he was already too much in love to let her go. She seemed to share the same strong sentiment the way she was caring for him and trying to ease his fiery anger. There was a palpable connection between the two that seemed to extend beyond their physical union. Maybe she returned his feelings after all and he had not really counted on that.

He sat down and continued eating his porridge. Jamie and Claire watched him warily. 

At last the bowl was empty and Murtagh rose slowly. “Aye well. Let it not be said that I did not try to save you pain. I should have known that you being Ellen’s son and a Fraser my efforts would be for naught. “

He went to his pack and removed a small leather bag tied with a drawstring. The bag rested in his hand for a second until he walked towards them and held it out for Claire.

“A wee present for a new Fraser bride then.”

Jamie hissed angrily. He would take nothing else from his godfather and neither would his wife.

“Och son. You know I love you as if you were my own. Please take this for old times sake.”

Jamie nodded to his wife and she accepted the bag. Upon opening she removed a long string of pearls that gleamed in the sunlight. Jamie looked at Murtagh in wonder.

“Aye. Ellen’s pearls were always meant for your wife. It wouldn’t do otherwise.”

Claire held the lovely necklace against her heart. No matter what had preceded the gift it was a benediction of sorts. “Thank you.” she said simply.

Murtagh bowed respectfully and returned to his pack. He’d intended for a longer visit but thought it best to leave now in a modicum of good will. Maybe next time he would stay longer if Jamie didn’t rightly slam the door in his face.

He patted his godson in the shoulder and nodded to his wife. His gaze told her that he was willing to trust her, for now. With no more than that he left them to find his horse. 

Claire turned to Jamie who was staring at the closed door. “Go to him. Even if he is misguided, he loves you dearly.”

Jamie nodded and exited the cottage to find his godfather for a proper good bye. Claire stayed behind, her fingers reverently touching Ellen Fraser’s pearls. She wondered what the woman would have made of her. Maybe she too would have judged Claire unsuitable for her son. Or maybe she would have used her mother’s intuition to know that she loved Jamie deeply.

Suddenly she felt very tired and wanted a nap. She guessed she could attribute it to the emotional exchange she’d just experienced however her energy and been dwindling significantly in the past few weeks. Claire wondered if she was becoming ill which was very inconvenient since they would take their harvest to market in a couple of days.

She was stifling a yawn when her husband returned. Claire held out her arms and he embraced her swiftly almost lifting her off the floor in the process. They held each other as some of the tension they had been holding was released. Jamie kissed the top of her head sighing into her pined up curls. It had been difficult to have the marriage they both treasured questioned like that. 

Claire was still holding the necklace but Jamie pulled it out of her hands and laid it around her neck reverently. He had not been able to gift his wife with anything since she’d been here and was glad that she would at least have his mam’s pearls. They looked so bonny on her that he ached to take her right then and would have except for all the interminable tasks in front of him. So instead he settled for a bit more time in her arms, feeling her warmth and her love. How had his godfather come to believe that Jamie would survive losing his wife? If he couldn’t be with Claire he would rather just not be. 

TBC

 

 

 

.


	12. The fight

They had their first fight a week after Murtagh left. It didn’t start of that way, in fact Jamie had been particularly gentle as they made love that night, kissing her sweetly and stroking her with the lightest of touches. Claire responded to his attentions with equal tenderness making Jamie almost purr in contentment. At the end both husband and wife were firmly ensconced in each other’s arms, drained but very satisfied.

Claire awoke in the middle of the night. Jamie was sleeping peacefully nestled very close to her. He’d taken to sleeping without his sark lately. His bare body warm and ready at a moment’s notice to make love to her. She’d been touched by his eagerness. It was a bit heady to think that it was she who Inspired such hunger in him. Sometimes all it took was a brush of her loosened hair against his skin to ready him. His ardor showed no trace of diminishing even as he grew more familiar with her body. She ventured that it was a product of his having remained a virgin so long and a lonely one at that.

She sighed tiredly. Claire had never been a good sleeper and lately it had become more pronounced. Most of the time she could be soothed into sleep by watching the rise and fall of his chest. The motion was steady and dependable like her husband himself but tonight it was not producing its desired lull. In fact Claire felt wide awake and restless. 

The light from the fireplace reflected off Jamie’s still face. The high flat, viking cheeks and straight nose where even more pronounced by the shadows falling around them but what she really gravitated towards was his generous mouth with its soft warm lips that she loved to taste.

She grazed her fingers across his temple and he smiled softly. Claire wondered if this was something that he’d always done or was this just with her. A small , vain part of her liked to think that she was the sole cause of Jamie’s apparent happiness because she herself had never been as happy as she was with him. 

Claire smiled and shifted a bit to make herself more comfortable. Emotions aside, there was a new strangeness in her body. She felt different somehow, heavier and at the same time more delicate. The tiredness had not subsided even after a few hours of sleep. Claire was a healer and had a vague idea of what was going on but it was too early to truly tell. In a few more days she would know for sure. 

And then what? Her timing was not the best as Jamie had shown her a small pouch containing the bit of money that he’d been able to amass in his three years working the fields. It was a paltry sum and it worried her greatly that they had nothing to fall back on if the need arose. If the crops failed they would be destitute.

Maybe she could find a way to ply the trade of healer. There were other crofter families hereabouts and although she could not reach them on foot, she had Gideon who did not mind long treks as long he did not have to follow Clarence. The only true challenge would be to achieve some sort of reputation so that she would be sought when the need arose. Maybe she could offer her services when Jamie and her went into town to sell his harvest. She would have to organize her herbal remedies and sachets of medicinal teas rather quickly but it was doable. No, the only real challenge was to convince her husband that this was the best course of action. 

In Jamie’s estimation, it was his duty to provide for their household. He took this very seriously and would be offended if she were to suggest, by her plan to work as a healer, that he wasn’t fulfilling his role. It would no doubt be a point of contention between them but it was something she needed to do for their sake.

 

She decided that she would tell him of her plans tomorrow and hope for the best. 

x-x-x-x

It didn’t go very well.

He listened to her plan attentively but she saw the smile in his face fade slowly as she went into the details.

“So at first I would just sell herbs in combinations that I know are best to treat certain ailments with indications of course. Anise and peppermint work better with angelica and horehound to treat constipation but you also have to drink more liquids for the problem to resolve. I can also treat wounds even festering ones. There are not a lot of healers in this parts and it wouldn’t take much effort for people to start calling on me or I could travel to them if need be.”

She showed him a basket of sachets that she’d been working on since morning. They were only common remedies tweaked a bit to be more effective. She had labeled them according to their use and Jamie saw such treatments for ailments like loose bowels, constant headaches and chest congestions. His mother had had a similar basket filled with medicinal herbs that she brought when she visited Lallybroch’s tenants. She was the laird’s lady and it was expected of her to help her people but she never took any money for them. Ellen Fraser had no need as her husband provided for her and provided well. Claire Fraser, on the other hand, had a poor husband that could barely manage necessities so she was forced to work.

Jamie never felt such shame. 

His wife had a gift for healing that should be shared but that she needed to do so because he couldn’t provide cut him so badly. And it wasn’t like didn’t work as hard as he could because he always did. He didn’t stop even if his back ached or his hands bled from pulling his root crops but nothing mattered if it didn’t satisfy Claire. He was a failure in his wife’s eyes.

Something dark blazed through him and he lashed out tumbling her basket across the floor. She gasped and rushed towards the spilled herbs but Jamie grabbed her and pushed her towards the wall pining her to the rough stone. His body pressed against hers, larger, stronger but not enough. Jamie wasn’t man enough for his woman. 

“Jamie stop you are frightening me. I only meant to help.”

But he wouldn’t stop. He had to make understand what her words had meant to him. His blue eyes bore into her whisky colored ones. His gaze told of a deeply wounded pride. She was his to care for and he would drive himself harder, sleep less, work through his exhaustion and his pain. Jamie would sacrifice his own soul to please her and give her everything she deserved so she wouldn’t feel that she had to do for herself. He kissed but she did not open her lips. 

“No” she hissed and tried to pull away from him. 

His ardor grew but she did not respond. He nuzzled her but she did not take him into her arms as she was wont to do. She completely closed off from him and this stung him deeply. In all their months together he’d never been rejected by his wife in such a fashion. It made him feel even more unworthy of her.

He tried a bit more, kissing and licking at her neck. She was usually receptive to this but instead of drawing him closer she pushed him away.

“Let me go!”

Jamie stepped away at the coldness in her voice. She was furious at him.

“ You do not get to push me around ever. I won’t take it. I am your wife but I am not your property and I will make my own decisions. If I want to work I will do so and if you think that you can rule over me then you better think again.”

Her head was high and her words fell like lead on him. He wanted to tell her that she was his before God and man. That he would find a way so that she wouldn’t have to support them but he couldn’t. He stood silent before her.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please go away or I will.”

The cool calmness of her voice tore at him. She didn’t want him anymore? Claire would leave him?

The breath left his body and icy fear tore through his blood. He stumbled out of his cottage like a blind man. For once the outside air did not soothe him. Claire wanted him gone from her life and he would be lost without her.

X-x-x-x-

They did not sleep together that night. Claire stayed in the cottage but Jamie stayed elsewhere. She tossed and turned all night and when dawn finally came she decided to take Gideon for a ride. It had always cleared her head in the past and as she put on her cloak and boots she anticipated the feel of a slow gallop across the hills. Gideon was a good horse, horrendous temper notwithstanding.

She entered the stables to find her husband curled up in a pile of straw. His plaid wrapped around him. Clarence looked on him worried but Gideon snorted impatiently. Claire’s heart sunk as she walked towards him.

He’d been crying. The early light of dawn reflected silvery tracks of tears in his face. Jamie looked very young and lost and she couldn’t help but think that he’d sobbed in heartbreak before she came. 

“Jamie?”

He scrambled to his feet to face her. Bits of straw stuck to his tangled russet locks. He was barefoot and was wearing his oldest sark which was mended into near extinction but even then he was still beautiful. 

They stood face to face for a moment before he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her cloak. Contrite and deeply frightened at the possibility of losing her.

“Oh Jamie.”

Nobody had taught him how to be a husband. There was no one to ask for counsel. Murtagh had been right, he was only an ignorant lad not fit for a lady like his wife. But he needed her so much. He raised his head and his bloodshot eyes said what he could not.

*Don’t leave me. Don’t go.*

Her face had softened at Jamie’s suffering. In her anger she’d forgotten that he was still so young and so limited by his condition. He couldn’t express anger through words but merely actions. Jamie had no tools to explain his emotions, no way of countering her demands on him. He just mostly smiled and did his best in a world that had no place for someone like him.

And she was his wife and was pledged to love and accept him. 

She knelt next to him and took him into her arms. He was shaking so she stroked his back to try to soothe him. “Its fine Jamie. I‘m not leaving. I was just going for a ride. Please love calm down.”

But he couldn’t. He was too distraught and Claire understood that she could break him. She could take the light from his eyes, the smile from his face leaving him bereft and empty. 

Claire stood up and released the clasp of her cloak and let it fall to the ground. There was only one thing to do for her husband that would shake him from his misery. She pulled her dress off leaving only her shift and boots. Jamie watched her from the floor. His eyes damp and wide. He was still on his knees and made no motion of reacting to his wife’s apparent invitation. Jamie was too ashamed to touch her so she took him into herself instead. 

This time their joining was tentative and shy. Jamie reined in his customary eagerness in favor of touching her almost penitently as if he’d been granted a reprieve from a cruel punishment. He was so scared of losing her that it colored every action even the most intimate but Claire was as warm and welcoming as always. She wiped her husband’s tears away and loved him completely.

Later in the morning they laid curled up in each other’s arms. Claire’s head rested on his chest and he was playing with her curls tangling his fingers through them. He loved their springy softness. *Mo nighean donn*

His wife seemed lost in thought. He kissed her softly and waited to hear what was on her mind. She did not disappoint. He 

“I love you and I will never leave you but sometimes I cannot understand you.”

He dropped his hand and turned to look at her.

“We need to learn how to talk to each other” she said.

TBC


	13. The market

Gideon was displeased.

The irascible horse was well familiar with the feeling. Displeasure was a state he’d long since inhabited but today he had learned whole new depths to the sentiment. He’d been awoken before sunrise only to be loaded up with the farmer’s harvest destined for the market. The wagon he was made to pull was filled with carrots, potatoes and the like. He also had his mistress and the farmer at the helm but what was worse they had harnessed him next to the mule putting him on the same level as that inferior beast. 

It was an affront to his equine pride. They might as well pen him with the goats or with the chickens at the coop.

He tried dislodging the harness but it was a sturdy thing that held true. The mule seemed entirely undisturbed, no doubt used to this type of undignified treatment. After all the mule was an draft animal and Gideon was decidedly not.

Stupid mule. 

Stupid mule who clearly knew the way that they were going so Gideon was forced to follow his lead. This made the horse very upset and it was only his mistress’ offering of five very delectable carrots that kept him from bucking the entire rig off. 

But it was still early so he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t at least try to kick the farmer on the rear end as soon as he got the chance. He wouldn’t even feel bad about it since if it wasn’t for him he and his mistress would be back in their comfortable lodgings in the castle. There was a filly that Gideon had his eye on for a few months and if they had stayed he might have sired a foal or two on her by now.

With visions of unattainable fillies prancing in his head, Gideon gritted his teeth and set about to the market alongside the braying bane of his existence. He would get even. He would find a way.

X*x*x*x*X

 

They had left at dawn so it was still fairly early in the morning when they arrived. Jamie had come to this market only twice before. In the first year on his own he had produced very little and of poor quality so he did not even try to sell anything . He’d been ashamed of his incompetence but the subpar bushels of produce he had managed to grow had kept him from starving that winter alongside the rabbits and fowl he’d been able to hunt. In thinking back he believed that his failure had been for the best. He’d been newly mute and too traumatized by his loss to be able to manage interacting with anyone besides his animals.

When he was younger and whole, Jamie had thrived in a populated village like this. He loved conversation and the opportunity to meet new people. He’d accompanied his father whenever he went to town on business. Brian Fraser had relished society and he’d taught his son how to enjoy it as well. 

Because of necessity or because the injury had altered his personality, Jamie had become terribly reclusive. Crowds made him feel uneasy. Their loud voices assaulted his senses. Places like Leoch were easier to bear because he knew everyone there but a place full of strangers was difficult for him. Even now he longed to turn his cart around and take his wife back to their cottage but they sorely needed the money. They were running low on many provisions that the farm couldn’t manage. Claire had said something about wanting lengths of cotton flannel and yarn. He would just have to do his duty and get through the next hours.

If Jamie was anxious, his wife was decidedly not. As much as Claire loved being alone with her husband she was excited at the prospect of traversing a new environment. She wanted to look around, take in the wares of the other merchants and offer her services as a healer. There was a elderly lady selling skeins of colored yarn on the opposite end of the market. She had it in mind to purchase a bit of soft yarn as she would find use for it in the upcoming months. The fact that the lady was trying to massage swollen arthritic fingers did not escape her notice. She might put her skills to use and make a fair trade of it. 

Jamie glanced at Claire worriedly as he set his harvest in the large, barrel-like baskets he’d woven for the purpose. His wife was so lovely in a pretty blue dress with a green, embroidered shawl over it. She had pinned up her hair but some tendrils had slipped the knot and framed her face most becomingly. There was color in her usually pale cheeks and an excited glow to her eyes. Jamie for his part had done his best and worn the kilt the McKenzies had given him for his wedding. It was still in pretty good shape but the shirt had already been ripped twice and although Claire had a good hand with the needle, it still looked mended and quite worn. Any prospective buyers would take a good look at him and know he did not have two pennies to rub together. Mute and poor and he had all but painted target on his forehead. 

He sighed in resignation. Jamie was well aware he needed Claire to speak for him so they would not be cheated out of a fair price but at the same time having to rely on his woman made him feel very small. Men were supposed to provide for their wives but here he was silent and useless. 

Unaware of her husband’s dark thoughts, Claire’s attention had been caught by a very nice, thick bolt of dyed wool hanging in the arthritic lady’s stall. It was forest green and brown with a thin line the color of Jamie’s eyes. She thought of Jamie’s patched jacket and thought that she could make him a handsome replacement. 

“I’ll just be a minute” she said as she grabbed her basket of herbs from the cart. Jamie stopped to watch her go. They’d been married for a while now but he didn’t like being away from Claire especially in an unfamiliar place. He wondered if his need to have her near would settle in time but he doubted it. Everyday he woke up to find that he loved her more that the day before and with that love came a deeper attachment. If she ever came to her senses and left him he would spent the rest of his life pining away for his wife.

He shuddered to think of such a day. Jamie was by nature resilient but he didn’t think he would survive going back to his stunted existence if she were no longer with him. He had been contented with his wee croft, his animals and his small goals but those things paled in comparison to having her. She had breathed love and hope into his life, made him a man instead of the lonely lad he’d been. 

He was so lost in his sobering thoughts that he did not notice the pale faced man that had stopped in front of his cart eyeing his cabbages. It was his one near perfect crop and he’d only lost a few to an industrious rabbit that managed to get past his fencing. 

“Yer cabbages and the carrots are yer only decent crops this season. Ye didn’t even try bringing in the weeviled barley this time did ye Fraser?”

Jamie stiffened at the clear Edinburgh accent. He’d hoped that he wouldn’t have to meet this particular merchant but alas his poor luck was ever present.

He sighed and turned to meet Tom Christie with his head held high. The man was a bit shorter than him and of a heavier built that he carried well. The fine black wool coat he wore had Jamie wishing for his own tartan one but it was too damaged to wear anywhere except around the croft. 

For his part Christie took in Jamie’s shabby appearance. He looked even more impoverished than last year. It was nice to see someone of Fraser’s pedigree brought down so low. Once upon a time he was likely to have envied Fraser but now he had nothing that Christie could wish for. The man smiled malevolently, knowing full well that Jamie wanted for him to leave but he couldn’t even say so could he?

There was clear dislike between the two. Christie knew that Jamie was a former Laird and a nephew to the McKenzie of Leoch. He’d been educated with all the advantages of his position which irked Christie who was a self made man for whom everything had been hard won. But now their positions had shifted and it was Fraser who struggled. Such a state of affairs was deeply satisfying to the well-off merchant.

Christie could have bought from any of the other crofters offering their harvest but he liked having the opportunity of humbling Fraser even further. The boy had entirely too much pride still coursing in his veins.

“Give it here. Dinna trust ye to sell me half-rotten cabbages.”

Anger blazed in Jamie’s eyes but he swallowed it and handed Christie a good sized specimen. The man used his knife to open the vegetable, inspecting it for any signs of rot or weevils. Finding none he smelled the leaves for freshness.

“It seems to be acceptable. How much for the lot?”

Jamie took a bit of paper from his sporran where he had written down the prices for his produce. He pointed to the one set for his cabbages.

“That’s entirely too much. Are you daft as well as mute?”

Jamie narrowed his eyes at the insult. Last season he’d been coerced into taking very little money for his crops. Christie and others had taken advantage of his inability to argue for a better price but he wouldn’t let it happen again. He had Claire to consider now. She shouldn’t have to see her husband being taken advantage of.

Jamie shook his head and waved Christie away. The merchant stood his ground. He wasn’t done with James Fraser.

“Do ye think anyone here is going to give ye a better offer Laird?”

Blue eyes glared angrily and Jamie had to breathe slowly to quell his growing ire. Christie always knew how to get a rise out of him. He had to get the man to leave him alone before he did something he would later regret.

A clipped English voice grabbed his attention and his heart skipped a beat. “I believe my husband wants you to take your insults and your business elsewhere”

Christie turned to see a tall, curly haired Sassenach with whisky eyes gleaming at him in indignation. Her hands were on her hips and she looked ready to pounce on him as if she were a wildcat after prey.

Claire Fraser had heard this man disparage her husband and she was more than ready to put a stop to it. Her Jamie was not meant for such derision and she would slap anyone who thought otherwise.

For his part Christie gasped audibly. He’d seen many beautiful lasses but not one as striking as this one. The fact that she apparently belonged to the mute crofter struck him as being very wrong. Such a lass should be mated with a much better man. Someone like him perhaps.

Well then, it seemed like Jamie Fraser still had something worth taking after all. 

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I’ve been a bit overwhelmed lately and that has zapped my inspiration quite a bit. I hope to have the next chapter out a lot sooner since I really want to see the outcome of Jamie vs Christie. As per usual the latter wants what Jamie has and will not walk away that easily. Thank you to those that take the time to read and comment.


	14. In which Gideon inadvertently saves the day

James Fraser definitely had something worth taking and she was exquisite.

Christie stretched to his full height which was considerably less than Jamie’s but still impressive of itself. He was not a handsome man but pleasant to look at nonetheless and he augmented this with his predilection for well tailored coats and breeches. His face was pale with dark brown hair tied back neatly and a beard kept well-trimmed. The one striking feature were his silvery grey eyes that flashed with interest at the woman before him.

“I beg your pardon madame. I meant no offense.” He said soothingly.

Claire was having none of that.

“I find that hard to believe. You called my husband daft and insulted him with the price offered for his cabbages which are of fine quality.”

She was right, not that he would admit to it. “It’s just the way of business if you must know. There is no harm intended.”

“Do not speak to me as if I were a simpleton sir. You did not try for a better price. All you wanted to do was belittle Jamie though I cannot understand why.”

Christie looked at Claire, her chest was heaving in controlled anger under her pretty shawl. An avenging angel if he ever saw one and all for the poor mute who was looking at her with clear adoration in his eyes. How did James Fraser who barely had enough to feed himself and couldn’t even talk merit such a woman? How in God’s green earth had he managed that?

“I dinna wish to make aspersions to your intelligence Madame. Rather I should commend ye on the loyalty you are showing to yer husband. T’is not a frail woman who stands by a man so afflicted as this unfortunate soul.”

Jamie cringed visibly but instead of responding in anger he dropped his gaze to the ground. His shoulders were hunched over and he seemed to shrink before her eyes. Claire saw his reaction and realized that he believed the ill-mannered man’s words. 

Oh Jamie.

Society was not kind to those that were different like him. Jamie had grown used to being disparaged, he expected it, but what was worse is that he thought that she felt sorry for him. That her love was laced with pity. It wasn’t. It was laced with admiration and understanding but he didn’t know that.

She would tell him so until he internalized it. But for now she would deal with the ...

...or maybe she wouldn’t have to after all.

In the haze of her anger she’d missed Gideon’s surreptitious maneuvering. Jamie had taken off the harness and tied horse’s reins to the wagon but he’d forgotten to hobble the stallion who had used the opportunity to position himself by the wagon’s wheels. His back hooves were intended to be in line with Jamie’s back or rather his backside. It was evident that the animal was seeking retribution for unknown slight on the part of her husband. However, Gideon was not known for his sound planning so he’d lined himself against the newcomer instead of his intended target.

She was about to alert the man when Gideon balanced himself on his front legs and kicked with vigor striking him in the backside. 

Claire and Jamie watched as Christie was lifted of the floor a few feet only to land unceremoniously in a pile of muck of unknown origin face down and arse up. For a few seconds neither them nor the dozen or so people in the vicinity uttered a sound, shocked as they were by the sight before them. Gideon turned around and noticed his error. He neighed grumpily and picked a carrot off the wagon to console himself. Clarence swished his tail against Gideon’s flank companionably. The horse ignored the mule’s friendly gesture but he did not try to bite him for once.

Christie rose from the ground to a cacophony of laughter. His face was covered in mud, bits of straw and other even less desirable matter. His pale face had gone beet red and he sputtered in indignation.

“Why you infernal beast...” he exclaimed and rushed towards the horse with his fists raised in anger.

Gideon continued to chew but his eyes were focused on the filth-bedecked man in front of him. He did not seem worried at the least for his safety and didn’t have to for Jamie stopped Christie mid-stride with a fist across the face. 

The merchant staggered back tripping over a pail of chicken parts discarded by the poultry seller. A hailstorm of feathers and guts rained over the man to the the further amusement of the crowd.

Claire gasped and held on to her husband, not at all unhappy about his rare display of anger. Jamie was mostly a sweet, even-tempered man but still waters always ran deep. Apparently aggression aimed towards a not-altogether-helpless animal had triggered something in him.

Clarence brayed with enjoyment. He didn’t much care for his stable mate but for once the horse had proved useful. Gideon neighed in response and pulled another carrot from the wagon allowing the mule to bite off half of it.

It was a truce of sorts which was more than could be said about the murderous look that Christie threw Jamie’s way when he finally rose to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster which wasn’t very much. Jamie’s eyes returned a challenging stare. He might not have much but he would guard it faithfully.

Without another word, Christie stumbled away from them, dislodging feathers from his fine coat as he went. The crowd dispersed and Claire turned Jamie kissing him softly on the lips. 

“You are my love and my treasure. There isn’t any part of me that feels pity towards you” she said softly.

He nuzzled her, uncaring of the curious looks they were garnering from those around them. Even Clarence and Gideon were staring at them while chewing their shared carrot.

*mo chridhe*

She raised her eyes to him as if she heard his silent endearment and she had with all her soul.

“You are my heart as well.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your wonderful comments. They gave me a boost of inspiration to write this. Coming up next... someone learns that they are going to be a father in a rather adorable way ( at least I think so). Also Jamie realizes that he doesn’t have any carrots left to sell but doesn’t mind overmuch.


	15. A Bug for a bug

Jamie woke up one morning and decided that life had been very kind to him. 

His wife was still asleep, clad in her shift. Her hair was in tangles and her face puffy but she glowed with an inner light which suited her name. Claire. His Sorcha.

How had he lived before being granted the gift of her ? She made his days whole and gave them meaning. There was nothing in his life that Claire hadn’t touched and made better.

His debilitating headaches seemed to be a thing of the past because his lady had him drinking butterbur and feverfew tea regularly and that seemed to have made the difference. She had also insisted that he improve his diet so he found himself eating more watercress and other leafy vegetables which made him feel stronger. Claire had said that eating only porridge and rabbit stew wasn’t good for anyone’s health. He had nodded in agreement but was a bit glad that he couldn’t tell her how often he’d gone to bed hungry that first year alone. She would have fretted to know of the many hardships he’d endured as he tried to make a go of his wee croft. 

That life with its privations and loneliness seemed far removed from him. He had a wife to care for and who cared for him in return. She always made sure that he had a full belly and that his clothes had no holes in them. Claire treated the aches and injuries that he was prone to incurring as he worked. Many a night she’d warmed a bit of eucalyptus infused oil and carefully massaged it into the sore muscles in his back. He loved that and would stretch under her like a grateful cat. Claire would laugh but would pet his head, tangling his russet curls in her fingers. Soon after they would make love. 

She’d awakened his body to the pleasures granted a man with the woman he treasured. He hadn’t realized that he’d grown resigned to the fact that he would remain a virgin for the rest of his life. The idea had pained him but with time he’d accepted it as just another thing lost to his affliction. To give himself some comfort his imagination had often concocted a faceless woman that would hold him as he slept. In more desperate times he’d arranged his quilt and blanket around him just to have the feel of someone pressing against his body. He’d been so pathetic then, thinking that such things could compare to having his wife in his bed.   
.  
But it wasn’t just her warmth and presence that he cherished. It was also her willingness to open her body to his clumsy explorations. He had no frame of reference to pleasuring a woman because in his teenage years he had not gone beyond kissing a lass. She knew this and helped him to develop his sexuality slowly, making allowances for his blunders and encouraging his discoveries. He learned to be delicate with her, careful not to crush her or hurt her in any way with his eagerness. He also learned what she enjoyed the most about the act which was usually surprising. With her patience, he gradually became a more than capable lover, always hungering for his wife and being rewarded for it.

So he was very lucky and very grateful for it. He didn’t think he could be happier.

He even had new hope in improving their finances. After the incident with him Christie and Gideon, there had been other buyers who offered fair prices for his harvest. Claire had proven a talented negotiator and he’d gotten more than he had anticipated for his cabbages and potatoes. It more than offset the loss of the dozen or so carrots Gideon and Clarence had helped themselves to.

They had a bit of more money which Jamie would make use of in the service of his goal. He had plans to better their lives and give his Claire at least a few of the comforts she had known before him. For that he would need a larger income than his croft was able to produce at the moment.

And he needed to get rid of the weevils but Claire had also taken that goal unto herself albeit indirectly.

Just as she had anticipated there was a need for someone of her skills around these parts. She had treated the wool seller at the market and had been able to help her with the inflammation in her hands over the course of a few weeks. The lady had been well known and had recommended Claire to her acquaintances. Almost every other day someone came knocking at their door to seek treatment for one ailment or another. Jamie was uncomfortable about the unknown people trekking through his land. No one knew who they were and what they might do to his wife. He insisted on staying with her in the cottage when the patient was a male. Jamie believed it was his husbandly duty to glare at the strange men less they get other ideas regarding his lady. Claire rolled her eyes but let him be as she went about her business. Often she used him as an extra pair of hands when there was a need as was the case five days ago.

The man in question did not seem much of a threat, even Jamie had to admit. He must have been at least eighty or so, old and gnarled with a lame right hand sporting a couple of missing digits. He lived whereabouts in a cottage with his wife and had the unique name of Archibald Bug.

He was succinct in his introductions and informed Claire that he had an inflamed boil the size of a melon in his arse.

“My wife tried lancing it but it has grown bigger so I canna longer bear a chair or my breeks.”

Claire nodded . “That sounds terrible. If I may see the boil please.”

Mr Bug and Jamie stared at Claire. Neither man gave credence to her scandalous request.

“I cannot treat something I cannot see.” She said mildly and watched in amusement as her husband gesticulated his displeasure with her. 

“I can assure Mr Bug that your virtue is in good hands. My husband will ensure that I do not take any liberties beyond providing care. “

Neither Arch Bug nor Jamie knew how to counter that argument so Jamie gritted his teeth as the patient lifted up his kilt just enough to allow her access to the affected area. Claire asked Jamie to hold him steady as she did her work.

Thankfully she was quick about lancing the boil, cleaning it and packing it with a garlic poultice to prevent further inflammation. She instructed her patient with the steps to follow to prevent further discomfort. 

As soon as he saw him, Jamie had taken measure of the man and knew that he didn’t have money to spare but he wouldn’t take charity. Claire rarely got paid in anything but foodstuffs or balls of yarn and the like but those contributed to their household. She really didn’t expect anything from her patients and like a good healer would treat indiscriminately.

Arch thanked Claire and nodded to Jamie. Both men stepped outside. Fora long while they stood looking at Jamie’s fields. At last Arch spoke.

“Folks ‘round these parts say yer not right in the heid. Are ye?”

Jamie smiled and shrugged. 

“Dinna think ye were daft but there are many things ye don’t know.” 

He pointed to the barley field. The crops looked frail and stunted.

“I will be bringing something for the weevils. That’s my payment.”

Jamie nodded and watched the strange character walk away. 

Tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The barley crop weevils may have met their doom. Baby reveal is coming up next. Actually the chapter will deal with two babies but one may have a tail. Next chapter will also have the introduction of one of my favorite animal characters from the books. Thank you for reading and commenting. I will try to get the next chapter finished quickly.


	16. Love

When Jamie dreamed, he dreamed of Claire. He dreamed of her voice, her touch and the feel of her pressing against him. It was of no matter if she was lying next to him, his absorption with her was so throughout that she encompassed even his moments of unconsciousness. Awake it was no better as he was only truly happy when she was near. Thus, his fear of losing her was an ever present dread that had settled in the recesses of his soul. He tried not to let it show it but Jamie was not capable of guile so Claire knew of the extent of his devotion. It humbled her to have her silent husband’s heart so firmly ensconced in her hands.

And now she had his baby as well. She could only imagine the depth of his sentiment towards her would grow even more.

Her hands travelled to her womb. The child within was still very small. A tiny thing growing stronger day by day. It’s father was fast asleep with his head pillowed on her lap. She’d been reading out loud from Robinson Crusoe and he’d listened attentively to the story sitting on the floor next to her. He’d been riveted by tale of the unlucky castaway until the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him. 

With a soft smile on her face she combed her hands through his russet locks. The hair was thick and springy and almost as curly as hers. Their child would likely have hair just like this. 

She did not know how to tell him of the news. He was overprotective by nature and would become even more so once he learned she was expecting. Claire could anticipate that he would keep her from going to see any patients that were too ill to come to her. She wasn’t ready to give that up just yet not only because of the contributions it made to their household but also for the satisfaction helping people gave her. It would be a pity to set aside her skills just as she was starting to use them again. 

As if he could read her mind, Jamie stirred and shifted, cuddling closer to her.

“You’re tired. Go to bed.”

Jamie shook his head but did not open his eyes.

Claire smiled. “Stubborn as always. You’ll be sore in the morning if you stay in the floor like this.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her pleadingly. He wouldn’t move as long as she was there.

“Oh Jamie, you know I still have some mending to do. Get some sleep in the meantime while I finish.”

She was not surprised to see the soft lips pout in displeasure. Her husband was such a child sometimes and was firmly committed to the idea that if he was going to bed it should be with his wife by his side.

“Fine, I give up.” She conceded as she rose to her feet. “I’ll just put the oats to soak for tomorrow...” 

But he wasn’t willing to wait even for porridge preparations. He slid up her body dropping tiny kisses as he went. She could feel him beginning to harden and remembered that he’d fallen asleep yesterday before they could get started. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to let it happen twice in a row.

It was fairly late in the night so Claire had shed her work dress and was clad only in her chemise and a shawl to ward off the cold. Jamie pulled at the soft linen garment until she was bare and in his arms. He breathed in deeply, pacing himself at the sight. Even after all those months the sight of Claire naked took his breath away.

Jamie’s work roughened hands felt good against her soft skin. Their texture was familiar and comforting as they traveled down her back and settled on her backside. His hands pressed against the rounded flesh with reverence. Claire had no doubt that this was a favorite part of her anatomy. 

As was his custom, Jamie carried her to their bed. He laid her across the quilt carefully before he stretched himself alongside her. He was still wearing his sark but made quick work of the garment. Lying by her side with his skin gleaming in the firelight and his eyes dark with desire, Claire thought she never seen a more erotic sight than her husband in the throes of burgeoning passion.

Jamie had been growing as a lover and a very generous one at that. He never sought his own pleasure without seeking hers as well. His willingness to be guided by her in intimacy was still there as was his eagerness to please her. It was an intoxicating combination and Claire relished it very much especially now that her body was changing.

Early pregnancy had made parts of her feel particularly sensitive and she gasped at the barest touch of his lips on her nipples. Jamie looked at her curiously. She’d never done that before. He could tell that there was something different about her but had no idea as to what. Claire shifted her hips rubbing against him to distract him which did as intended. 

He was breathing rapidly and nearly dissolved with need. His hands were grasping at the sheets beneath him waiting for her. Jamie’s blue eyes bore into Claire’s as she positioned herself on top of him. Her lips melded into his own and with one hand she encircled his length making him shudder helplessly straining to find her warmth. 

Jamie moaned silently and arched his back. His head was thrown to one side and she could see the taut muscles in his neck. Claire loved to watch him so uncontrolled and lost in passion. She wished that she would always make him so. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Afterwards they were exhausted but tingling with the afterglow. Jamie ran a single finger across his wife’s breasts and torso tracing the unspoken words of his love. Claire watched him as his adept fingers drew the sweet Gaelic endearments he couldn’t say.

*Mo chridhe —- Mo muirninn*

My love—-My darling

Claire turned towards him and took his hand. She held the appendage in hers noting the calloused skin and the ragged nails. It was the hand of the man who toiled endlessly to provide a good life for her. Who cared for her as she were the most precious of gifts. Who gave of himself with such abandon that it shook her to the core. The father of her child and her true love.

They were face to face and he had dreamy expression in his eyes. Claire kissed the tip of his long nose and he smiled. 

“I love you” she said softly.

He nodded and his free hand went to his bare chest as he mouthed the same words carefully back to her. Jamie looked so vulnerable and earnest that it broke her resolution to keep her news a bit longer.

Claire rested his hand on her womb and held it there.

“Your child will love you as well” she said softly.

Jamie blinked in confusion at her words. His damaged brain slowly making connections until they arrived at the meaning behind them. Jamie’s breath caught in his throat upon the realization that their bairn slept just under his hand. Safe in its mother’s womb lay the most miraculous of miracles.

The dam broke and a flood of tears spilled from his eyes. A child. Their child.

How could it be possible for him?

Jamie was the man who three years ago had resigned himself to a life of poverty and loneliness. Whose dreams were kept small by his limitations. Never had he believed that the gift of a wife and child would be ever granted upon a poor mute like him but here it was.

A bairn. His son or daughter given to him by his beloved wife. A Dhia. He was overcome by gratitude and awe. 

“Are you happy?” She asked.

He nodded vigorously and kissed her belly. Claire wiped the tears from his eyes with her hand. She herself had begun to tear up. This was such a beautiful moment for them. It was the culmination of the time they stood in front of a priest and pledged themselves to each other.

And now they would be three.

“I’m happy too, very happy.”

Jamie smiled and took her into his arms. His wife. His child. They lay together, awake, until dawn came.

 

TBC

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned something completely different for this chapter so it took a bit longer than usual. The baby reveal was actually going to be funny and involve goats but then I thought of the Jamie from chapter 1 who does not even think he has a chance to have a wife much less a family would react to having both. I felt it had to go a different way so I rewrote it. I hope you like it.


	17. James the Less

 

Three years ago

 

Jamie had gone back to Lallybroch to sign the deed of sassine in favor of his young namesake. Nobody had argued that it was the proper thing to do as young Jamie had plenty of Fraser blood in him and was not incapacitated like his uncle. Only Ian had asked him if he was certain. What if he someday married and had a son? What would he pass on if not Lallybroch? Jamie grinned and shook his head. He knew that there would be nobody to marry him now so to think that he would someday have bairns was beyond the pale. He had accepted reality and so had everyone else except for Ian.

His sister Jenny had not offered even a token protest to Jamie’s decision to give up the land and title. Young James Murray would someday make a fitting Laird and the estate would be left in good hands. Everything would work out at the end and the only one who would lose everything would be him.

Jamie had smiled as he signed his birthright away and kissed his young nephew in his forehead. He wholeheartedly wished the best of luck to the tiny boy who would inherit what was meant to be his. Jamie did not feel any resentment at the unfairness of it all. Such things were now far and away from him. It was best to reconcile with the facts as they were and move on.

A few hours later Jamie was safely back in his room and away from his family. He had been thinking of what the future held for him now that he had no future. Everything looked a bit hopeless. He guessed that he could stay here in his family’s land and help out as best he could. One did not need to be very smart or able to speak to pitch hay or plant carrots. He could see his nephews and nieces grow up and Ian and Jenny would not worry too much about him. That would seem to be the best course of action for all involved.

But he didn’t want that. Jamie did not want to be the sad remnant of what could have been. He couldn’t bear pity no matter how well intended. The tenants would look at him and think him feeble. His sister would treat him as she would another child. It would be very hard to live with.

So he resolved to leave Lallybroch and find his own way in the world. It was a frightening proposition as he would do so without being able to speak but he saw no other recourse for someone in his situation.

He would only need a wee bit of land to farm where he could have some chickens and maybe goats for milk. It didn’t even have to have a house as he was capable of building himself a cottage. He would like a remote area as he did not see much call for company in his life. Who would want to be friends with him? 

All goals, however small, required money and he had none. He did have his mother’s pearls and his father’s ring. And he had his spoons.

The silver apostle spoons had been a baptismal present. He hadn’t known that they were his until his Da had shown them to him when he was twelve. He’d been curious about their purpose and his father had told him they were intended for Jamie’s children . Jamie had been horrified by the idea that he was meant to have thirteen children for each of the spoons but his father had set him to rights. 

Every so often he would go looking for the fine leather box to look at the spoons. He did not know why he found the idea of them so pleasing. He guessed it had something to do with their implied permanence. These spoons would be passed on to his children and their children and so on and so forth. 

It was very difficult to grasp for someone so young but no less meaningful.

On his last night at Lallybroch, he’d gone to his box again. The spoons inside gleamed in the firelight, and he’d taken one by one inspecting it carefully before setting it down. The intricate silver was beautiful and he placed it against his warm cheek. He was surprised to realize that he was crying.

It was daft. He’d just given up everything and he was sobbing over spoons.

He had no use for them anymore. Jamie would never see his own son or daughter admire these spoons as he had when he was little. He didn’t know what the next years had in store for him but it wouldn’t be the family he’d always believed he would have. No. There was only hardship and loneliness for him. No need for apostle spoons that he would never pass on.

And yet his hands removed a familiar spoon in the middle. The tiny bearded figure had his hand placed over his heart and was holding a cross handled sword with the other. It was very bonny and his favorite. St James the Great.

Young Jamie would likely give this spoon to a future namesake just as Jamie had planned to do. He couldn’t take it with him.

In the far corner of the velvet box lay the other James. He had a walking staff instead of a sword but Jamie liked it fine. Not everything was a fight, sometimes all you wanted was a little help. 

Without thinking it twice he removed the spoon and placed it in his sporran. 

Maybe someday. 

X-x-x-x-

 

Now.

 

Claire was asleep. She was getting more and more tired as the baby grew. Jamie insisted on taking on the household chores so that she could rest. At first she’d been reluctant but the child was depleting her energy so she let Jamie do most of the cleaning and taking care of her garden. She insisted on cooking all his meals but he was rising earlier so that he at least could boil the morning porridge. 

The sight of her in their bed steadied him, centered him as nothing had ever done before. He’d been adrift even before he lost his voice looking for something that he couldn’t name, that he couldn’t even be certain existed. Completion, fulfillment, love. Jamie had been missing Claire and hadn’t even known.

His sporran was hanging on a hook. Jamie rummaged inside and found the grubby piece of felt that covered the spoon. It was still there. The scrap of silver that had encompassed the wee bit of hope that had been sheltered in his heart. 

Jamie kissed the spoon thanking the apostle for his kindness. Someday he would give his bairn this spoon to pass on to his own child. It wasn’t the handsome set they were meant for but it was enough.

Claire stirred and Jamie put St James back in its wrapping. His wife was missing his warmth and he would do naught but comply.

He cuddled against her placing a work-worn hand on her belly. The wee bairn fluttered like a butterfly in greeting. Jamie smiled and rubbed tiny circles on Claire’s belly knowing that his child liked the motion. Even now it responded to their Da’s love.

At last the child was eased back into his sleep and Jamie followed. 

All was well.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been a bit busy so all I could manage was this filler chapter. I promise that the next one will move the story somewhere. Thank you for reading and commenting.


	18. The best laid plans

She’s started showing on her fifth month and Jamie was extraordinarily pleased. There was an ever present smile on his face and his eyes twinkled with a new light whenever they chanced upon her as they often did. Claire was both amused and terribly touched by Jamie’s approach to impending fatherhood. He was proud as a peacock and so enamored with her that it was humbling. She knew, without having to be told, that she was Jamie’s entire world. There was nothing that he wouldn’t do to ensure her welfare and that of their child. 

It was also around this time that he started to come home from the fields a bit more exhausted than usual. He was also dirtier and his hands had even more blisters on them. Claire washed them in warm water and rubbed a bit of lavender tincture to promote healing. His reddened knuckles were swollen from continuous strain and so she rubbed them to ease the stiffness. She finished tending to them and lay a kiss on the soft part of his palm. Jamie smiled sweetly at the gesture. He loved the feel of her soft lips against his roughened skin.

After dinner, Jamie always spent some time trying to interact with their baby. He pressed his ear against her belly trying to catch the heartbeat. Claire explained that it was unlikely that he would but Jamie carried on, too eager for another sign of his bairn. Often he was rewarded with a bit of movement as the child became more mobile. Each little flutter was met with a sweet kiss upon her belly and a soft caress. Such was love.

She’d been told that babies in the womb could recognize their father’s voice. Her baby wouldn’t hear it’s father but seemed recognize his touch. She would even say that the child had learn to anticipate his arrival for as the day ended it grew more active. When Jamie walked through the door it all but somersaulted in its excitement. Jamie was no less eager for the encounter..

Claire was charmed by it all. She did not remember her parents but she’d hoped that her mother had been as happy as she was now. That she’d felt as cherished as she did by her husband. It was one of the most special times in her life and having Jamie beside her made it better.

As the weeks progressed she realized that there was something more going on. Jamie seemed to be working harder and although this seemed fitting for a father to be, it nevertheless intrigued Claire’s to just what he was planning. He’d been paying extra attention to the now weevil free barley (thanks to Mr. Bug’s intervention). The crop was late maturing and when it was time to harvest it she was surprised to see Arch Bug himself join Jamie. Clearly the two men had come to some sort of accord. The nature of the arrangement became clear when Jamie came home one night with a badly bruised right hand. Claire immediately inspected the injury and washed away the debris with warm water. She massaged an herbal pomade for pain and wrapped it in soft linen.

Jamie sat down for his supper which he consumed with his usual enthusiasm using his left hand. Claire had made rabbit pie and he had several helpings before he was sated. She couldn’t help but smile at his actions. Her Jamie really was a walking appetite. Claire worried that his child would be the same.

With one of his hungers in check, Jamie watched his wife as she rinsed out the dinner crockery. Ahh! but his lass was glowing. Her skin had taken on a luminesce not unlike that of a pearl and even her hair seemed to gleam by the firelight. She was so beautiful that it made his heart quicken.

The well stocked fire of his passion smoldered in her presence. He sighed and the little sound that escaped his lips made her turn around. The now familiar sight of her husband’s gaze, blue eyes heavy with want, set something alight in her. She set down the mug she was rinsing and their gazes locked together. 

Jamie couldn’t speak but his expressive eyes told of his need for his wife. He was no longer shy about it. She knew very well of his devotion for her and it didn’t embarrass him in the least. Claire was his everything.

She walked the few steps to him as if draw by an invisible magnet. A wave of warm anticipation settled in her body upon reaching him. 

Jamie sat frozen in place. Mesmerized by the woman in front of him. The ache in his hand and the exhaustion in his body had no bearing upon his desire for Claire. He didn’t doubt that she could make him rise from the dead if need be.

She bent down to kiss him and he rose to meet her halfway. His wind- chapped lips pressed against her own soft ones. 

Claire tasted of the mint tea she used to settle her stomach. The bairn had been troubling her again but not as much as in the first few months she everything seemed to make her ill. Now the baby was settled and she was stronger. 

His hands travelled to her bodice and made quick work of her buttons and laces. The simple homespun dress was pulled from her body. Claire sighed in relief as her breasts were freed from her stays. His mouth went to her darkening nipples, tasting her, suckling a bit. Her milk had yet to come but her breast were already swollen and tender. It gave him pleasure to think that his wee bairn would soon be fed at her bosom . That she would nourish and nurture the child that he’d given her.

*Mo chridhe...mo nighean donn*

She lowered her head and the curtain of her long curls shielded them both. He bit her skin gently as she tangled her hands in his curls pulling at the reddish gold strands. He increased his efforts in response and Claire’s breath grew heavier until she was panting at the sensation. 

He opened his eyes to watch her. She was a vision and his arousal grew even more urgent. Jamie rose from his chair with Claire straddled at his hips. He laid her down on their bed gently, almost reverently, and watched her as she readied herself to receive him.

Even after all this time he came to her bed with the same neediness of the first time. The months together just made him even more aware of how lucky he was to have her as his wife. Claire responded in kind taking delight in his body and in the love he gave so willingly.

Afterwards they lay sated in each other’s arms. Claire took his damaged hand in hers. The bandage had held but she would need to replace it with something more substantial in order to protect it.

“Why?” she asked simply.

Jamie grimaced a bit but nodded with resignation as he pulled himself from their bed. Naked, he walked the few steps to the pantry and retrieved the empty whiskey bottle. It had once been one of his sole treasures willingly given when she had first taken him to her bed. He held it out to her and looked on expectantly.

Realization came quickly, “Whiskey? You’re making whiskey?”

He nodded proudly and replaced the bottle. He returned to the bed and sat down next to her.

“That’s why you were so concerned with the barley. I assume Mr. Bug is an associate of sorts and that’s why he’s been coming over so frequently. But Jamie isn’t it very difficult to do such a thing?”

He shrugged and placed his hand lightly on her belly. His meaning was clear.

She lay her own hand on top of his. His silent promise to their baby moved her. Jamie wanted something better for his child. Before Claire he’d grown accustomed to a life stifled by his limitations and poverty but it wasn’t what he wanted to pass on to his bairn. His family deserved more than that. 

She could feel her the hot pressure of tears behind her eyes. Pregnancy had made her emotional and Jamie’s wordless pledge more so. He looked on her tenderly and nuzzled her neck until she opened her arms to him. Jamie settled himself comfortably against her warmth and felt the soft swell of their bairn between them. The child was cocooned between its parents, protected by their love for each other and its promise for the future.

X-x-x-x-x-

The morning was its usual bustle of activities as Claire set to get her husband fed and readied for his work filled day. His hand was looking much better and the swelling was gone but he was advised to keep it wrapped and not to use it at all. Jamie nodded solemnly knowing that it was advice he was likely to ignore as today they were finishing building the kiln in the shed. It was almost the last step before the barley could be set to the malting process. In the next few days Arch Bug would take the cart to pick up the wooden casks that they secured in exchange for a large share of the future whiskey. 

It was all coming together well and Jamie felt very fortunate. He could sell the liquor for a tidy profit. Lallybroch had its own malting sheds so he was quite familiar with good whiskey-making process. He knew he could do it.

Claire watched him go. It was evident from his enthusiastic good bye kiss that he had a mission set before him. She too was busy as she was knitting a warm blanket for their child. A patient had given her a good amount of soft yarn died in a pretty blue. It reminded her of Jamie’s eyes. She’d never been very good at the knitting process so it was taking a very long time to accomplish the feat but she was determined just the same.

She was in the middle of a intricate stitch when she heard the horses. It was not uncommon to receive visitors on horseback seeking medical assistance but there were far too many horses for that. A large group of mounted men could only be one thing.

So she was not surprised to open her door to he sight of a dozen redcoat soldiers. At the helm was their officer. It was he who addressed her.

“Good afternoon to you madam. I’m Captain Jonathan Randall and we are in need of your assistance.” 

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and sorry for Randall. I don’t think I could write anything Outlander without including its most vicious character. Thank you for reading. Love all your comments and kudos.


	19. On the road

It was early in the evening when Jamie Fraser and his mule returned to the cottage. He’d stopped at the stables to feed and settle down Clarence and Gideon for the night. The horse seemed to be upset and greeted his stable mate with a restless whinny. Clarence responded in kind and Jamie wondered just what terrible news the horse and mule were sharing.

As was his custom, he checked on the chickens. He had fed them in the morning but now it was time for them to bed down in their coop. He was surprised to see that they were still in the yard. Most afternoons he came back to find out that Claire had already seen to them but she must have been tired today. The bairn liked to kick late at night and often woke her up. He wished he could tell his wee one to let his mam get her much needed rest.

Once the chickens were safe, Jamie headed towards his cottage. His heart began to beat faster with the knowledge that he was about to see his wife. He’d finished the kiln in the malting shed and tomorrow he and Arch Bug would start bringing in the barley. He was happy that it was all coming together and there was hope for a better future for his growing family. His laddie or lassie would not lack for anything and neither would his Claire. 

It was heady to think that he would be able to provide for them as he should. Ever since his incident he’d felt like a powerless lad that could barely make it on his own. Marrying Claire had made him into a man and now he would have a bairn to protect as well. He couldn’t wait to hold his tiny babe in his arms and kiss its mother for the gift of it all.

With warm thoughts of his wife and child in his mind Jamie walked into his cottage only to find it empty.

Claire wasn’t there.

He looked around the small space. Everything was as Claire kept it but the fire had gone out. There was even a pot of fragrant stew kept warm over the embers but no sign of his beloved wife beyond that and the piece of paper left lying on the table.

A feeling of disquiet settled at the pit of his stomach. Claire was still seeing folks that needed doctoring but with her advanced pregnancy she no longer went to them. She wouldn’t have left their home unless she had to.

Her writing was stark against the creamy page. 

 

My love

I am required to accompany a Captain J. Randall of his majesty’s dragoons to fort William. They are in need of a healer as theirs has fallen ill and passed last month. I was assured that I was meant for a single patient who had taken a turn for the worse. I believe that this may be a close relative of Captain Randall as he has shown much interest in his welfare. I will do my best but either way I hope that I will not be too long separated from you. I’ve left dinner for you and the oats are soaking for your breakfast tomorrow. Please take good care of yourself and I will do so as well for the sake of our child.

I love you.

Claire.

 

He was frozen. Confused as to what the words on the page implied. All he knew was that Claire was gone and the breath had left his body. 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

 

Something inside Claire told her that Captain Randall was a very dangerous man. He’d come to her polite as anyone but she detected the threat under his florid words. She was no fool and knew very well how vulnerable she was as the wife of a poor Scottish crofter. Her English background would not count for much to them since she’d tied herself down to one of the savages that they so had disparaged during the ride to the fort. Her belly clenched with seething disgust at their attitudes towards the proud Scottish people like her beloved husband and the McKenzie clan who had offered hospitality in her time of greatest need. 

She had remained silent until they had stopped to water the horses. The ride had been a bit challenging even though the mare she’d been given had been steady and placid. Claire had gone to the stream to wash her hands and face and drink some water. She was a bit nauseous but cool water would do her fine. It was then that Randall sought her out.

“I trust that my men have not been too rude in their commentary. It is the way of soldiers you see.”

She turned to him and looked him straight in the eye. “You have asked for my help only to spend the last four hours belittling my people.”

He looked surprised at her daring, not being used to such attitude from a woman and a poor peasant at that.

“But yet you will not turn back” he said.

“I will not as there is someone who requires my skills. However, I do ask that you curb your men or my lunch might just resurface on their laps.”

“What?”

“I’m expecting Captain and prone to bouts of nausea.“

He looked at her closely finding signs of her growing belly beneath her loose arisaid. 

“Oh I was not aware. Forgive me madam that I took you in such a delicate condition. I’m sure your husband will not be pleased by the fact.”

“I am sure that he will not but I am hopeful that I will be back in my home in a short time.”

Randall nodded and considered the woman before him. He could tell that she was of gentle birth and quite beautiful to look at. He’d expected a hag when he learned that she was married to one of the McKenzie’s poorer relatives, a man afflicted by idiocy, he’d been told. However had that happened? 

“Have you been married for very long?” He asked conversationally. Claire’s eyes narrowed at the implication.

“A year. And yes that means that my child was not the cause of my marriage.”

His ensuing smile did not reach his eyes. “I beg your pardon madam. I meant no such offense.”

Her answering smile was just as honest. “I’m sure that you didn’t Captain Randall. However I repeat my request that your men seize in their talk until they are no longer in my hearing”

“I will order them to do so at once.”

He bowed to her and went off to address the eight other soldiers that had accompanied him on his mission to find a healer. Claire watched him go rubbing her belly protectively. The child kicked in agreement. There was something very dark about Captain Randall. She hoped that she wouldn’t get to see it.

“Do not worry my baby. We will get through this and then we will return to your Da. I miss him so.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will not have such a long a wait. I was away for a bit and did not get to write as intended. For those that are reading “a man’s soul” another chapter is coming soon as well. Thank you for your comments and kudos and I hope that you are still reading.


	20. Fort William

“Breathe it in as much as you can. Try to hold the smoke in your lungs for ten seconds and then let it go. As strange as it seems this will help open your airways.” Claire said soothingly while holding a wooden pipe lit with Thornapple weed. 

The young man did as told. It was important that he took in more air. His lips had been tinged a blue this morning which was telling of how ill he really was. Alexander Randall was dying and there was nothing Claire could do to stop it. She could make him as comfortable as possible and did so gladly. Alex was a gentle young man who had been dealt a very bad hand. He wouldn’t live to see the next month but at least she could make sure that he wouldn’t die chocking on his own blood. When the time came she could help him pass without much suffering. 

Claire could not help but compare him a bit to her Jamie. He was sweet and unassuming like her husband although Jamie possessed a streak of stubbornness and Alex was mostly compliant. He did not question her more unorthodox treatments such as the use of Thornapple. The youngest Randall knew very well that she was doing her best to give him more time and he appreciated her efforts. It was Captain Randall who expected a cure.

And there laid the trouble, Claire could not make him well. She would not succeed with what Randall had tasked her with and did not know how he would react when it became apparent.

But she couldn’t focus on that now. She had to get more air in Alex’ lungs.

He breathed in the medicinal smoke as she had instructed and little by little he grew calmer as his air-starved lungs were able to get some relief. Claire smiled and eased him back to his pillows so that he could be more at ease.

“Thank you Claire.” He said softly..

“Will you have a bit of broth?”

He shook his head. “Maybe later. I don’t think I can swallow just yet.”

She nodded in understanding, He had gotten very little down since she’d been seeing him but as sick as he was it was to be expected. “Would you like me to read you some more.” She asked pointing to the pile of books at his bedside. 

Alex sighed and for once he didn’t sound strangled. “Not right now but I do want to hear your voice. Maybe you could tell me some more about your husband?”

Claire smiled bringing to mind her beloved Jamie. “What would you like to know?”

“What did you think when you first saw him at castle Leoch?” His voice was but a whisper but she understood him fine. Claire had told him of her arranged marriage that had slowly evolved into a love match and he wanted to hear just how. Alex was a true romantic.

Claire wanted to indulge him. Alex had confessed that he’d never known love and it made her sad for the unfortunate young man. If her own story would bring some comfort she was more than willing to share it.

“I first saw Jamie about ten minutes before we were wed. He was lovely, freshly washed and wearing new clothes. I could tell that he was proud of them because he hadn’t had anything new in years. I was standing at the altar next to the priest and Jamie’s two uncles.”

“Did he notice you?”

“More than notice. He couldn’t take his eyes off me even as he spoke to his uncle Dougal. He was just as focused on me as I was on him and I already knew we were to marry.”

“That sounds ... unusual but wonderful.”

“It is wonderful. Circumstance brought us together but it is love that keeps us. This little one....” she said as she caressed her swelling belly. “Is our most precious gift and our promise for the future.”

Alex smiled sadly “You love your husband deeply. I’m very sorry that my illness has taken you away from him:”

“It’s alright. I like being able to help people and I’m sure Jamie understands.”

“I daresay your Jamie misses you terribly. I want you to tell him that I am grateful that you were here for me on my last days.”

“Don’t say that. You will get better.”

“No my dear. I feel weaker everyday and breathing is getting harder and harder. My life is beginning to come to its natural conclusion and I have accepted it. I’ve had enough of being ill.”

There was nothing she could say to that. Alex had been in decline for quite some time and his suffering was great. He was ready to let go but his brother was not.

“I don’t think Captain Randall wants to hear that”

“No he doesn’t. Johnny is clinging to the belief that his will is stronger than God’s own”

“He loves you very much.” she said evenly.

“He does but he is also very possessive of me. He doesn’t want to let me go even if I have chosen to go. I worry that he may take it out on you when I pass. “

Claire turned away not wanting to dwell on the matter more than she already had. She could not control what would happen or Captain Randall’s reaction to her eventual failure at keeping Alex alive. She would have to stay strong for her baby and Jamie. How she longed to have her husband’s arms around her. She craved his quiet comfort. The feel of him nuzzling the skin in her neck whenever he wanted to come closer. She missed his little sighs, the warmth of his hands when he touched her. The sheer pleasure of him sleeping in her bed, curled up around her like a greedy cat. 

Claire rose from her chair and walked to the glass covered window directly opposite Alex’ bed. Her hand caressed the cool pane. It was late afternoon and Jamie would be returning from the fields dirty and bone tired. She hoped that he was eating well and getting enough rest and that he didn’t miss her too much. Claire could not stand the thought of him being miserable because she wasn’t there. The thought of him in pain teared at her heart.

Her thoughts were interrupted by soft knock at the door followed by the entrance of one of the fort’s resident cooks who had been commandeered to deliver their meals. Claire greeted the elderly lady with a smile as she had been a friendly ally since her first day here almost a month ago. 

Mrs. Graham had been employed at the fort by Captain Buncombe who was Captain Randall’s predecessor. There was nothing about the fort that she didn’t know and often enlightened Claire about its current happenings. She was kind and good humored but today there were a few frown lines in her forehead as if she carried a great matter of concern. Claire picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong Mrs Graham”. Claire asked as she helped the woman set the overladen dinner tray in the little table next to Alex who looked up inquiringly. He too was used to a brighter dis position 

“Och it’s nothing to worry yourself about lassie. Just thinking about a puir lad that’s been down in the dungeons for quite a bit of time now. He’s been feeling sickly lately and didn’t eat anything at all for a couple of days.”

“Has a soldier been punished? I can ask the Captain to let me treat him.” Claire knew that Randall was a strict taskmaster and his soldiers were often disciplined harshly for even the slightest of infractions.

“Nay, t’is no soldier. Just a peasant lad that was caught trying to trespass into the garrison. The Captain thinks that he is a spy for one of the clans.”

“Goodness. Has he confessed or said as much?”

“Nay lass. I’ve been told that the boy cannot even speak.”

Claire’s blood turned to ice and her eyes widened in terror. “Please Mrs Graham take me to him now. I must see him.”

Alex tried to rise from his bed to no avail. “Oh Claire do you think it could be him?”

Claire clutched her belly nervously and she felt the baby stir awake. “I don’t know. I wrote him a note and asked to wait for me but Jamie is too stubborn. Oh God let it not be him.”

Mrs Graham having caught wind of the matter tried to calm Claire down. A breeding woman was not to worry herself so much but Claire was near panic in her need to see the mute lad in the cells.

“Dinna worry. I’ll take you down to the dungeon. We can say that you are there to see to the lad’s health.”

Claire nodded and wrapped her shawl around her middle protectively. She had not ventured much past the wing where Alex and her had their assigned rooms. Alex watched them go hoping that it wasn’t Claire’s husband. Neither she nor Jamie deserved such a thing to happen to them.

*-*-*-*-*-*-

The dungeons were mass of dark, cold stones in near disrepair. Claire could smell the stale air even from the corridor that led to the cells. A friendly guard unlocked the heavy wooden door that separated the prison from the rest of the fort at Mrs Graham’s request.

Alex had told her that the dungeons were mostly intended for the locals that defied British rule or had committed theft and the like. A few soldiers had also been disciplined there as well although their sentences were only for fortnight or so. Scottish prisoners were usually kept for years. 

Just the thought that her Jamie could be inside one of those airless cells pained her to no end. The baby kicked in response to her distress.

Mrs Graham led her down a dark corridor lined with tiny barred cells that were mostly empty except for a few wretched men in various states of misery. She could smell the blood in the air. Someone had been whipped fairly recently.

At last they stopped at a cell near the end of the corridor. Mrs Graham directed her torch to shed light at the figure crumpled in one corner of the cell. Claire pressed herself against the bars and tried to see into the shadows but it was difficult. Her heart beat wildly against her chest and the baby quickened in response as she looked for anything familiar in the poor wretch curled in the filthy dungeon floor. 

It took but a few more seconds before her eyes noticed the mended tear in the jacket that had been caused by Gideon’s sharp teeth more than a year ago. The faded tartan was a little misaligned despite her best darning efforts but Jamie had not minded and continued to wear his jacket proudly.

Oh God. It was him, it was her husband.

“Jamie!”

The body on the floor did not stir so she pounded her hands on the cold bars uncaring of the damage to her unprotected hands.

“Jamie. Please wake up.” She pleaded but there was no response. 

He was still as death.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the looong wait and I thank you in advance for your patience. I hope that you are still interested in reading this. On the plus side I have finally figured out how I am going to end this story which should make it easier to write from now on. Next chapter should be out fairly soon (in theory). Thank you for your kudos and comments and do not worry because this story getting a bit sad because it will not be the angst-fest that is my other story. We will get back to the lightness soon enough.


	21. A Darker Turn

Jamie read her note over and over again until the sentences were ingrained in his memory. He knew the meaning of each word but they did not make any sense to him. Confused and disoriented he sat in his chair before the still smoldering fire and stared into the dying embers. 

She had left his dinner on the cooking pot and he should eat it as instructed but he couldn’t. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite through the painful lump that had settled in his throat. So instead he sat and was still as the world crumbled about him.

Claire. His lady... his life had been taken from him. Ripped away from their home. She and the wee one in her belly were alone in the midst of English dragoons and the man that Jamie had heard being referred to as Black Jack due to his cruelty towards the Scottish people. 

How was he supposed to just let it happen and wait for her to be returned to him? How was he supposed to go on as if his soul had not left his body when he found his wife gone?

How? 

The redcoats did what they wanted and took whatever caught their fancy. His croft was fairly small and not prosperous so he had been ignored so far but those of means had their crops and animals taken. He thought he was so insignificant that they never bothered to come this far but they had and had taken his wife.

What would they do to her? Claire had written that they came for her doctoring but she wasn’t safe in a garrison of redcoats. They would not see her as an Englishwoman after having being tainted by marrying him. She was Scots to them and they would treat her as such.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. A familiar pressure settled in the back of his skull just where the large scar rested beneath his hair. It mattered naught. All that mattered was that his wife was not with him.

Jamie rose slowly and looked around his empty cottage. He took in the jutting stones that made its walls. Claire had strung her sachets of aromatic herbs on them. The scent of lavender and rosemary would ease him to sleep wrapped in his wife’s arms. His body used to her shape and the warmth of her. He didn’t think he could ever sleep without her by his side.

A silent sob escaped his chest. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go back to how it had been, to who he had been before her. Alone and lost and telling himself that he was content with what he had because it was all that he would get. Jamie needed Claire like he needed air and water. His soul would not be at peace until she was with him.

It didn’t matter that he was poor, powerless and unable to even speak. He would make do until he found her because he had no other option. He couldn’t stay and simply wait for her return. She as his and he was hers and that was his only truth.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The hard pounding startled both Arch and Murdina Bug out of a deep night’s sleep. The ancient man reached for an even more ancient gun and went to the door.

“Who’s there?” He barked at the incessant knocking.

He did not get an answer so it was with some trepidation that he unbarred the flimsy wooden door and let it open while holding the weapon at range of the intruder’s chest. Upon seeing who it was he lowered and waited for Jamie to communicate as best he could.

Jamie thrust Claire’s note at him. The older man noted that Fraser’s hands were shaking as he read the words on the page. Upon reading Randall’s name he understood just why.

Arch returned the note to Jamie. Inside the cottage, Murdina wrapped herself in a threadbare shawl and put the kettle to boil. The laddie clearly needed a bit of chamomile tea to ease his nerves.

Mrs Bug all but pulled Jamie inside and settled him before a very weathered table. Jamie placed his hands on the uneven wood surface trying to steady them but did not protest the treatment at all. He seemed smaller than the last time she’d seen him working in the malting shed alongside her husband. She did not know what had happened to the young man but whatever it was it had dealt quite the blow.

“Ease yerself for a bit laddie. T’is clear ye need something warm in ye.”

Jamie turned haunted eyes to the elderly matron who clucked in sympathy at their appearance. It was a very long time since she’d seen someone as broken up as Jamie Fraser. She patted his shoulder soothingly. 

The water boiled and she steeped the dried flowers in it and added a bit of valerian root. She placed a chipped mug in his hands and watched him as he drank the hot concoction gratefully. Poor lad. She knew that he wouldn’t have anything in his belly so she set a plate of cold porridge and bread for him.

Arch watched him as Jamie stared into the bowl. “So ye will not wait for yer lady to be returned to ye?”

Jamie shook his head vehemently. No he wouldn’t wait.

“Dinna think ye would. What’s to be done then?”

Jamie drew his left hand to his chest. He would go to find his wife.

“Will ye be asking the McKenzies to go wi’ye? T’is known that they are yer clan.”

Again the reply was a shake of the head. The McKenzies were his mother’s kin but they’d done too much for him already. They had granted him his croft and they had given him his bride. He wouldn’t be asking more of them. Claire was his to protect as was his wee bairn. 

“Then I will be going wi’ ye to retrieve your lady.”

Jamie turned to him and mouthed a ‘thank you’ but indicated that this was not his intention. He needed someone to watch over his animals for whoever long he was gone. It was a pantomime of sorts but Arch Bug was a man of few words and understood Jamie well enough to reject his offer of payment for the service to be provided. 

With his mission accomplished Jamie set out for the fort. Mrs Bug had asked him to stay the night by the hearth but he wouldn’t. He needed to set for the fort on his mule. 

Clarence was well aware of the urgency of their journey. The mule did not even bray in complaint as they made their way through unfamiliar paths before the sun was even dawning. It had grown cold and Jamie huddled into his old plaid jacket trying to ignore the temperature as well as the pounding in his head. He wished that he had remembered to bring Claire’s tea that was meant to keep his headaches at bay but it was of no matter. All that was important was finding Claire and bringing her home 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Fort William

Claire had all but physically forced the guard to open the door to Jamie’s cell. He had barely unlocked it when the woman rushed pass him to the man lying unconscious in the filthy, straw-covered floor.

“Jamie!.” She cried as she pressed her hand against his neck to detect a thready pulse. Thank God. He was still there but he wouldn’t open his eyes.

“What has been done to him?” Tell me now!” she demanded of the guard who looked about nervously. He was a boy of barely nineteen and this was his first posting.

“Nothing mistress. We just locked him up. He was awake and pacing and trying to force his way out even yesterday then he laid down and did not get up again.”

Claire ran her hands through his scalp looking for damage but finding nothing beyond the old scar. She pulled him closer to the torchlight and forced his left eye open. 

“How long has he been in this place?” 

This time it was Mrs Graham who answered. “A few weeks. I’ve been sending food for him and he has been eating but he stopped a couple of days ago so I worried. Oh dear Claire I had no idea that he was yours.”

Claire did not reply as she was too focused on her examination. The baby inside had begun to kick harder in response but she had no time to soothe it. All her attention was taken up by the unconscious man before her.

“Jamie please squeeze my hand if you can hear me. Please try love.”

His hand remained stilled. Claire tried to swallow the sobs that threatened to overcome her. She could not give in to her distress. It would render her immobile.

It was with artificial calm that she turned to the guard.

“We need to move him to my room. He is too ill to stay here and I will not leave him.”

The young man looked about unsure. He wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone besides ranking officers but the woman before him seemed pretty forceful.

Claire voice rose more than a few decibels. “I will not treat Captain Randall’s brother anymore if my husband is kept in this dungeon. “

“Do as she says lad. Ye know the Captain holds his brother in high esteem.”

The guard nodded and went to find help to remove Jamie from the cell. Claire pulled Jamie’s body to her lap and continued her examination although she already knew what had happened.

Injuries such as his that robbed him of the ability to speak often had complications. There was always a chance that the brain would suffer further damage later on.

“What is it lass?” Mrs Graham asked kindly.

The alarm in Claire’s eyes was evident as was her heartbreak.

“I think it’s an apoplexy. Oh God, I don’t know even if he will ever wake up.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just bear with me in this story. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Also I’m super thrilled at almost reaching 500 comments. Thank you for taking the time. I hope that you enjoy the rest of this little tale that’s reaching its conclusion.


	22. Where all love is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough” -Outlander

He smelled wrong.

Her Jamie always smelled of barley and rain. Of sun-kissed hay and sweat and sometimes a bit of eau de mule mingled with his own fragrant Jamie musk. At night she would cuddle close to him, breathing in his distinctive smell. It was really her favorite scent in the world.

But now he smelled of pain, fear and the filth of the dungeon cell where he had been kept. His beautiful russet curls were matted with dirt from sleeping in the ground. His skin was dull-looking and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He had lost quite a bit of weight on a diet of nothing but porridge, bread and water.

Her Jamie had hungered while she was comfortably sated just a few floors above. He had been cold and unable to make himself be understood. It was painful to even think about.

She had him placed on her bed and set about to examine him more throughly. Every inch of him was explored and his condition became apparent. He was alive but unresponsive to any stimuli. The brain was compromised but she couldn’t tell how much damage it had incurred. Claire had to take a few calming breaths midway noting that the baby was kicking in alarm. She placed a hand in her belly and rubbed tiny soothing circles.

“He will be fine. I promise.” She whispered to her child who responded by finally settling down.

Claire the woman and wife wanted nothing but to cry in heartbreak at what lay before her. The entirety of her soul was in that bed, dying. Claire the healer could not give in to her fear. She needed to save him.

Her uncle Lamb had not treated many patients with apoplexy because they did not live enough time to wait for the arrival of the physician. Out of the ten or so he had seen only five had survived. Out of those five only one had been able to walk again. The rest had remained paralyzed and at the care of relatives and friends. 

Not for her Jamie. She wouldn’t let it happen to him.

She examined his unseeing eyes again the sclera was bloodshot and the pupils dilated. He had likely lost his sight first before he’d become unconscious. The headaches that she had tried to keep at bay with teas and infusions had been the harbinger for something a lot more deadly. God why hadn’t she seen it before? She would have taken such better care of him and she wouldn’t have left him even if Jack Randall had taken her at gun point.

Pressure. That was what her uncle did for the one patient that had come back from such an affliction. He’d been there early enough to relieve the pressure created by the bleeding inside their skull. The patient had been a young mother of twenty five and she too had been unresponsive in the beginning. Later she would go on to have three more children with only a slight limp remaining.

Claire turned to Ms. Graham. 

“The healer before me. The one who died.. did he have a trephination set?”

“What is that dear?”

Claire’s voice was steady but with a trace of desperation. “A case of metal tools, mostly long and sharp to cut through the skull. There should be a drill.”

Mrs. Graham crossed herself. “Blessed virgin protect us. Are ye telling me yer going to cut into that poor man’s head?”

“Did he have it or not?”

“Aye. I saw it. I’ll be bringing it from his auld rooms.”

The older woman left and Claire sank to her knees. Could she do such a thing knowing the risks? She hadn’t been trained a a proper medical school like her uncle. All her knowledge came from watching him and being allowed to assist. She had never done such a thing and much less to someone she loved.

The baby kicked softly. Reminding her of the promise.

“I know love but I’m not sure. What if I hurt him more? What if he never wakes up?”

But he wouldn’t wake up if she did nothing. 

Fear settled in her heart as she imagined her life without his ready smile, his touches and the look of his eyes when they set upon her. She was overcome by the idea of a bleak future without him and felt her soul shatter.

Claire rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes breathing in his presence. He was warm and his heart was still steady if a bit slow. She was his and he was hers. They would see their child run through the fields together and someday their grandchildren. She would have many more nights in his arms and they would grow old together.

Mrs.Graham returned to find Claire already cutting into Jamie’s curls. There were tears running down her eyes as each russet lock was removed from its owner. It would grow back and he was still beautiful even with his hair shorn.

“What can I do to help Claire?” She said setting down the case in the large table that dominated Claire’s bedroom. 

Claire set the scissors down. “I’m going to need boiling water for cleaning the tools and all the candles you can find. I cannot lose the light.

The older lady nodded and set about finding the water. Claire would have gone to fetch it but she couldn’t leave Jamie. She would never leave him again.

She went to inspect the leather case that contained the tools she would need. Lamb had once had a similar set but it had been lost during travel and he had not been able to secure another one before he passed. The metal instruments gleaming amidst the soft velvet were both handsome and terrifying. She took in the trephines with their cylindrical blades and the curved regimes intended to remove the connective tissue from the bone. She brushed her head against the lenticular that was intended carefully to carefully press the brain material during surgery and there was even a tiny brush to remove bone fragments. It was all intended to work efficiently in one of the most dangerous procedures of all. 

Her hands shook and she feared that she would burst into sobs. She couldn’t do this. It was too risky.

But she had no choice. They had no choice.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

In retrospect she spent the next hour as if on a trance. Her hands on each tool were sure and steady. She did not falter when she pressed the drill against the old scar on his skull. Her hands were steady as she turned the crank against the heavy bone even though she had never done it before. The dark blood that emanated from the hole did not faze her even as she saw her the darker tissue also emerge. She held true as she stitched the skin together.

She finally broke down when it was all over. All she had to do was wait for him to wake... if he would.

Mrs. Graham held her as she cried that first night by his bedside. She had brought a hearty vegetable soup that she all but forced her to consume for the sake of the baby. 

The second night was just as bad. She’d sent the old housekeeper to Alex’s side and all she could do was pray and see Jamie’s chest rise and fall with every agonizing breath. If he stopped breathing so would she.

The third morning found her crumpled against his shoulder. Exhaustion both emotional and physical had broken her silent vigil. She’d fallen asleep thinking that it was all over and that Jamie would weaken and pass without having never regained consciousness.

The sun had only broken through the heavy cloud cover when Claire awoke. She felt heavy and without any energy left. It hadn’t worked and her Jamie would not be returned to her.

I’m sorry my love

She lifted her head and saw that his blue eyes were open and focused on her. A slight smile lay on his lips. She gasped and reached out to touch him only to be stopped by the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.

“Claire”

TBC


	23. Love II

Three Years Ago.   
Abbey of St. Anne de Beaupre

He liked to sit and watch the fish swimming around the pool in the back of the abbey. The sun reflected off their silvery scales making them iridescent and very pretty to the young man. They were kitchen fish intended for the communal stew but they were well fed and spoiled. Jamie leaned over and dipped a couple of fingers into the clear water. He smiled softly at a large carp that came to investigate for food. Father Anselm liked to give the fish choice tidbits from his meals and this particular carp often got the lion’s share.

As the fish swam in lazy circles, Jamie wondered if he could be as content here. The abbey was very lovely. It was a place of healing and solitude. The monks barely spoke except during prayers so Jamie’s inability to do so would not be amiss. He could pray in silence and he didn’t mind the various humble labors assigned to a novice monk. It seemed ideal under his new circumstances.

Jamie knew that his McKenzie uncles were pushing for him to stay in the abbey and take his vows. Dougal had written that he wished him the best but that Lallybroch needed a proper master and that an afflicted man could no longer fulfill that role. Jamie had cried a bit at seeing those words written so plainly in stark relief. He had known such a fact in his heart but until he had seen them in paper he hadn’t really accepted it.

The carp nibbled a little at his index finger and Jamie wriggled it half-heartedly. He could learn patience here and acceptance of what could not be changed. If he was meant to lose his voice, his patrimony and his purpose in life then he had to live on without them, Lifelong dreams needed to be set aside quietly and without bitterness as there was nothing to be done for it. He would never be the Laird his father had been. Jamie would never have a lass to honor and call his own. Lallybroch would not see his bairns running through the fields where he’d once played with his brother and sister.

A crushing weight settled in his chest. Jamie closed his eyes and prayed for the strength not to break down. It wouldn’t do any good and he would likely just get another of his terrible headaches for the effort. 

Jamie was so distracted by his dark thoughts that he did not notice Father Anselm until he was almost upon him. The elderly monk had a soft spot for his young nephew who seemed so very lost. It wasn’t easy for someone to come to grips with having to change their lives so drastically.

“It’s not all hopeless James.” He said said quietly.

Jamie blinked the tears away and nodded bravely but without much conviction. He was young and the fate before him seemed so grim.

“You can still live your life child. The world has a place for you and it is not necessarily inside the confines of this abbey.”

Broken blue eyes met compassionate brown. Father Anselm cleared his throat and continued.

“When you came to us we did not think that you would be saved. Your wound was too grave and you could not be roused from your stupor. You spent a week on the brink of passing on to the next world. I gave you the last rites and prayed for your soul’s eternal rest and yet here you are.”

Jamie shrugged. Without his words there was little he could do. It might have been better to not wake up.

“You may think that the loss of your voice has erased any value that you had to your clan. I know that your family is likely asking you to simply let go of everything you held dear. Some men cannot see a man’s real worth but James you have been saved Your life has been spared by the almighty for a purpose. You might be young but there is iron in you. It keeps you steady and strong. You may falter but you will not give James. Have faith that you will find your way.”

The monk laid a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder and prayed for his welfare. Jamie joined in silently asking God for strength but mostly for the faith that it would be better for him.

A calm settled his soul after that brief moment of grace. When the time came, Jamie left the abbey with empty hands but with a semblance of hope in his heart. He trusted that there would be something for him in the world. It would likely be the peace that came with resignation but at times he hoped that it would be something more. 

He hoped that it would be love.

But hope did not really spring eternal. Lallybroch and Leoch held no solace for Jamie. He had lost his ability to speak but also his sense of belonging to his kin. Jamie was both a Fraser and a McKenzie but neither seemed to fit the man he was anymore. He was only Jamie, the unfortunate lad that everyone looked upon with pity.

He felt adrift and alone. Silence was his only companion and it wasn’t a very good one.

But just like Father Alselm had said Jamie was strong. He clung to the little he could still have and made a life out of it. A tiny stone cottage in the poorest parts of the McKenzie lands where the soil was none too fertile. His bedraggled mule and his weeviled crops. As time moved on he found other things like the beauty of the early dawn, the sun warming his naked back as he worked the fields, the fish in the stream and the feeling of having earned his rest at the end of an exhausting day.

So he had that and it was enough. At least it was until he looked across the main hall at Leoch and saw her for the first time waiting for him to make her his bride. 

Jamie had not known how terribly he needed Claire until she was his. Life with her had meaning. It had hope and the love he had given up on. His wife had redeemed him.

Before her he had been a lad at even at twenty-two. With her he had become a husband, a provider and a father. He had become a man.

x-x-x-x-x

Fort William

She had given him his voice back.

“Claire”

It was so soft that it was barely more than a prayer but it was him. His voice, his words. Claire smiled through her tears. God in heaven it was finally him. Her beautiful Jamie.

“Claire” he repeated a little louder this time. His left hand reached out to her and dropped again when it only met air. She grasped it in her own and drew it to her lips. 

Jamie gasped a little at the feel of her. He hadn’t been certain that she was there. So much had been his distress that he had been hallucinating her in his cell. The last thing he remembered was crawling across the floor to her waiting arms as the terrible pain pierced through his skull.

But now he knew her to be real and all the worry and agony of the last few weeks fizzled in his bosom. The heartache at having been separated from everything he held dear in his life and not knowing if would see her again had defeated him. He wanted to weep in relief at having his wife near once more. 

“Claire”

She kissed his shorn locks. Although she had washed his hair with warm water she could still smell a bit of blood in it. “I know sweetheart, I know.”

“Dinna go again. Dinna leave me.” 

“I won’t. I promise that we will never be apart again but you must rest now. It’s important that you have enough strength so that you can heal my love.” She tried to move him back to lay over the pillows but Jamie just pushed himself closer. He needed to be in her arms and touching her. 

Claire let herself be wrapped around him. Basking in his vivid warmth after so many days of uncertainty. He felt thinner, his muscle mass wasted by illness and the weeks languishing in prison but it was him. 

“Lass... I thank ye mo ghraidh....thank ye.” 

It was the earnestness and gratitude behind his words that finally broke her down. Claire wept with the repressed terror that she had been keeping in her heart at the thought of losing her husband. The baby chose that moment to start kicking and Jamie grinned broadly at the clear presence of his bairn. 

“Dinna fash my wee one. Yer da is here.” he promised the agitated baby who responded by moving even more at the unexpected sound of its father’s voice. Ever the protector, Jamie set about soothing his wife and child. “Don’t cry my love. It’s all right. I’m still here because of ye. Ye saved me mo chridhe. Ye saved our family.“

“How did you know?

“I was asleep but I knew ye were fighting to keep me so I fought with ye. I couldna leave ye. Yer my soul Claire, my breath and my heart. You’ve have known this but now I can tell ye.”

She sniffed and wiped away her tears and his with a corner of her shawl. She did not know what the future held. He was technically a prisoner in the garrison and at the mercy of that odious Captain Randall. She did not know what the condition of his body was or if he would ever be able to rise from the bed again but for now it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was in his arms once more.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re at the ending stretch now. Only a couple of more chapters to go which I will try to have as soon as I can. Thank you so much for all your comments. I’m very glad that you liked the resolution to Jamie’s muteness.


	24. In which everything goes awry again

It was like falling in love all over again.

She couldn’t get enough of his voice, the soft lilt of his words. She hadn’t known that his brogue was so pronounced or that his sentences tended to mix into a half Gaelic, half english hodgepodge of beautifully descriptive language. Claire was his heart, his mo nighean donn, his Sorcha and his love. It was quite heady.

Jamie told her how much he loved her hair. The messier it got the more he wanted to tangle his fingers in her curls to feel the silky softness. He would not have her wear a cap no matter what others believed about what decently married women should do. He liked her wild and free.

They talked about their wedding and how they’ve both known in a visceral way that they belonged together. The disillusioned English lady and the still-innocent Scottish lad. It had been like a magnet drawing two polar opposites.

But, as Claire admitted, it hadn’t seemed that way at first.

“I did not think that you would marry me. Mrs Fitz said that you were kind but I thought that it was too much to ask to bind yourself and give your name to a woman with such a history. I believed that you would refuse when you learned of it all.”

Jamie smiled broadly. “Nay lass. Such things were of no matter to me if ye were willing to become my wife. It’s just that I dinna want to bring ye into such a poor life wi’ me. I own very little and have no great chance to change that. T’is no life for a lady such as you.”

“My life is by your side and my fate is your own Jamie. I have never been happier than I have been with you.”

“Wi’ a silent man?” He asked softly. 

Claire responded by kissing him soundly. “With my love. May he be silent, loud or in any way I may have him.”

“T’is a great thing to hear mo chridhe. I’m grateful you dinna find me so unattractive. It would have broken my heart if ye had.”

They were quiet then. Each wrapped in their shared recollections of a time merely a year ago when two lonely souls became one. Their unborn baby safely nestled between them. After a few more quiet moments she asked about what had happened to him to land him in a prison cell.

“I tried asking for ye. I had a paper written with your name on it but the soldiers that took me couldna read. They thought that I was some madman that meant to attack the garrison while mounted on a mule. Oh Christ. I do not know where they took Clarence. He was braying and showing his teeth at’ em. “

“I’ll find Clarence. I promise.”

“Please lass. Dinna think I could forgive myself if something happened to the stubborn beast.”

She nodded more than determined to find their beloved mule.

“But Jamie it was too dangerous for you to come after me. You know that the English soldiers do not look kindly upon Scottish men. “

“How could I not come after you lass? You are my very own life. I couldna stay away from ye any more than I can stop breathing. I’ve heard enough bout’ Captain Randall to know that he is no’ a decent man.”

“He’s done nothing Jamie except expect the impossible from me. I cannot save his brother and fear that the Captain will look upon it as a personal failure on my part.”

Jamie drew her closer. “But he canna. Yer the best of healers. No one could do what you do lass. If the Captain’s brother cannot be help is no’ yer fault but only God’s will.”

The knock on the door startled both. Jamie set to rise only to be pushed back upon the pillows by his wife. She knew he wasn’t ready to get up and wouldn’t be for a few more days even if his body cooperated. With brain trauma such as his nothing was a given.

It was Mrs Graham who stood before her while wringing her hands in a most telling way. “What has happened?” Claire asked.

The older woman was in a panic. “Och Dear. T’is the Captain returned and he has asked for ye in a most dreadful way. I think he’s been told that your Jamie is here and he is angry that a prisoner has been moved without his consent.”

“Oh. I will go to him and explain.”

Jamie’s voice was frantic from the bed. “Claire dinna. I will speak to Black Jack.”

Claire saw him trying to swing his legs around the bed to no avail. It was as if the appendages were too heavy to manage. She went to him not before grabbing a strip of bandage linen.

Before he could react she had secured his hands to the sturdy bed frame. He pulled at them with all his strength which wasn’t much at the moment.

“Lass no. I canna stay here while you face that man yerself for something that I’ve done.” Jamie cried in frustration.

“Jamie it will be alright. He has to understand but you cannot be up just yet. It will take a bit more time for you to be well enough to do so.”

She kissed him again and tried to soothe him by caressing his face. He was near tears in worry for her but she would not budge. Claire needed to be the strong one for their sake.

“Do not worry. I’ll be back shortly. I promise my love.” She said and went for the door.

“Claire!” He roared as he strained in his bonds. The desperation in his blue eyes made her pause but she continued. She looked at him worriedly as she closed the door behind her. 

“Please Mrs. Graham stay with him and if something happens please come and get me.” 

“Claire!”

The older woman nodded in assent and Claire walked away. She could still hear his yells from the staircase but she went down just the same towards Randall’s study.

TBC

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave it there but I will have a chapter out this week. I think we will have another two or three chapters and an epilogue. I do have a question though. Should Jamie try to get Lallybroch Bach or should he build upon what he has? It could go either way at this point. Thanks for reading and commenting


	25. Black Jack

Captain Randall did not even spare her a glance when she walked into garrison commander’s office. He was looking at the official ledgers for the running of the fort. There was a quill in his hand and a pot of ink on the side with which he was making notations upon the parchment. The expression on his face denoted that it wasn’t a pleasant task by any stretch. 

Claire stood by the doorway observing Randall as one would a venomous snake. Her hands were gripping her shawl as if to find courage in the knitted folds. Jamie had made it for her as an anniversary present and she treasured it greatly. Now it was her touchstone against the danger in front of her.

When Randall finally spoke his voice cut through the room like a well-honed knife. “Mrs Fraser, I believe that I was quite clear as to what your purpose here was.”

“You were Captain.” She said as calmly as she could manage.

He looked up then to glare at her. “And yet you have summarily ignored your responsibilities when it comes to the welfare of your charge.”

Claire breathed in deeply in an effort to calm the baby who was kicking her in response to her rapidly beating heart. “There were extenuating circumstances Captain. My husband was unjustly imprisoned in your dungeons where he became seriously ill. I had to perform a very dangerous procedure to try to save his life.”

“The welfare of a Scottish prisoner is no concern of mine. Your actions however are. I will have him returned to his cell to serve out his punishment for trespassing.”

“ You cannot. I will not let you. Jamie is not well and anything can trigger a relapse. He could die if he is not allowed to heal properly.”

“Again Madame I do not care. Your husband was foolish enough to try to break into my garrison without measuring the consequences. It is therefore imperative that he pay for such a mistake.”

“Jamie came here looking for his wife which had been taken from him without his consent Captain. He did not intend any harm but only to be able to ensure my safety and that of our child. It was not his fault that your guards are illiterate and could not read his note.”

“Our Majesty’s troops are not in the service of a dumb mute. He resisted arrest and caused injuries upon my men. I believe I will have him flogged for his impudence.”

Claire saw red and every trace of civility left her. “You cruel, sadistic bastard, if you must punish someone let it be me for I will not let you hurt him.”

He rose from his desk and at his full height he towered over her. Jamie was very tall too but with him his height felt protective while Randall’s was menacing. “You could very well lose your child with fifty lashes if not your life.” He told her coldly. 

She shook her head and a few tendrils escaped the knot at the nape of her head. “ I cannot lose Jamie. I won’t lose my husband.”

“You are willing to die for him then? Really.? Very commendable for a wife but I doubt that you would go through with it. What people say and do are usually very different.”

“Then you don’t understand love. Jamie is worth any suffering you may inflict upon me. You cannot kill real love Captain so don’t even try.”

Randall snorted. “I’m not interested in foolish sentiment or any of the your inane excuses. All that concerns me when it comes to you is that your husband broke the law and you broke your commitment as a healer. Both of you merit punishment but I will settle for him.”

“No!”

He grabbed her by the arms and his face was a mere breath from hers. “Then save my brother. Heal him like you did your Scotsman. If you do both of you may go free but it you fail I will lock him up for as long as I may see fit.”

“Alex is too sick , you know this. All I can give him is time but no more than that.”

“I refuse to accept that. You must find a way or else.”

They looked at each other then. Each resolute in their cause but Randall’s gaze spoke of violence visited upon the Frasers. He had the power to destroy her life by taking everything that she held dear. Without Jamie she had no life. Without him there was nothing.

“I will. I’ll save him.” She promised because there wasn’t anything else that she could do.

He let her go then. “See that you do.”

Claire left the office to return to Jamie. Her knees shook with the effort as she traversed the dark garrison. The baby was kicking frantically and she had to stop to calm herself. It wouldn’t do to worry Jamie at all. It would compromise his recovery.

She opened the door to her room to find him twisting on the bed trying to free himself to go to her. When he saw her his newly found voice was broken with raw emotion.

“Dinna leave me. Mo chridhe dinna go again or I will go mad.” He said straining against his bonds. Claire could see that he’d been crying in frustration and the skin around his wrist was reddened with the pulling the ties keeping him secured to the bed.

Claire untied him and he rushed to her arms. The bandage around his hair was spotted with blood. She eased him back into the bed as he kissed her in desperation and fear. 

It took a while longer before she could calm him down. He was too distraught to do more than cling to her, reassuring himself of her presence. He was no longer mute but years of relying on touch to convey his emotions left their indelible mark.he wanted to feel her to assure himself that she was before him.

“I’m fine love, don’t fret. He didn’t hurt me.”

At last she got him to calm down a bit. His rapid heartbeat had caused the bleeding to worsen. Claire unwrapped the bandage slowly and cleaned the wound once more carefully disinfecting it. Jamie winced a bit at the sting but remained still so that she could wrap a clean linen around it. He should be resting with his head as stabilized as possible but circumstances as they were there was nothing she could do to ensure that.

“Is it hurting bad Jamie?”

“Aye”

“You should rest. I’ll give you something to sleep so you will feel better.”

“Please dinna Claire. I cannot bear to be left helpless and unable to defend ye and the bairn.”

She caressed his face trying to soothe him. “But Jamie...”

He never denied her but this time he was resolute. “No.”

“You need to stay as still as possible. We don’t know much about your condition but any further damage to the brain can be dangerous. We have to be strong Jamie if we are to get through this. I need you too be calm and patient my love.”

“Black Jack is here Claire. Ye went to him , what does he want from us mo chridhe? 

Claire kissed him and his warm lips were soft and pliant. She wished that she could get him away and out of harm’s way but knew better than to suggest it. James Fraser would never leave his wife and child behind even if his life was forfeit by staying.  
She was just as determined to keep him safe.

“What Captain Randall wants is a miracle.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Thank you for all your comments and kudos. Clarence and Gideon are back in the next chapter.


	26. The blue light

Chapter Text  
Jamie finally fell asleep worn out by the stress and trauma he had endured. Claire was glad for he was still very weak and needed as much rest as they could manage. He also did not need to make himself ill again worrying about what they were to do.

Oh God they’d been so lucky that he’d survived. She’d had limited faith in her surgical skills but necessity and desperation had steadied her hand to the task. Somehow she’d been able to do the impossible and sensed the build up of blood that had been putting pressure on his brain and causing him to be unconscious. All the signs have been there but she’d known where the clot was almost instinctively. Claire had also felt the part of his brain where the ax had damaged it and robbed him of his words. The old injury was a dark shadow in her mind that needed to be restored. She’d lost all awareness of herself as she cut into him. It had been a tiny hole meant only to drain the excess fluid but she’d caught the flash of blue light traverse from her hands and into his brain.

She hadn’t been frightened knowing that the light was benevolent and would never hurt her Jamie. It was meant to help him in ways that her skill could not. When she’d been a young girl , her uncle Lamb have met with a fellow healer in a Parisian apothecary when he’d been tasked with the treatment of the second son of an aristocratic family. The boy had been born well before his time and been sickly for all his eight years. Uncle Lamb had been at lost as to how to help his young patient with his severe breathing problems so he’d gone to the apothecary in search of a rare herbs to help with the lung inflammation.

The building that they entered was large and filled with every herb and concoction possible. Claire had danced around the multicolored bottles with the names printed in elegant script. Hellebore and Angelica Root. Chamomile and Arsenic. To the girl they’d been just beautiful and she’d felt at home. Uncle Lamb had looked pleased at the selection and had asked to meet the proprietor, Master Raymond.

The gentleman in was quite the sight to behold. Claire remembered that he was barely four feet tall with bulbous, friendly black eyes and clammy skin that resembled that of a a large frog. She was instantly charmed and so was her uncle.

They had a genial discussion and it was settled that the patient was best treated with a rare bit of osha root from the colonies. The herb was meant to help open the patient’s airways but it wasn’t the needed cure. In fact there was no cure and uncle Lamb knew it well.

However the proprietor of that long-gone apothecary thought otherwise. She could still remember what he’d had said because they had made such an impression on the young Claire who’d been a burgeoning healer even then. His words had seemed very true to her and she’d kept them in her mind.

“All healing is done essentially by reaching the...what shall we call it? the soul? the essence? say, the center. By reaching the patient's core, from which they can heal themselves.”

It was true. The soul willed the body to heal itself but it was the healer who could act as the conduit to such a thing. Some would call it a miracle as Mrs Graham had said about Jamie’s recovery and the return of his voice. Claire did not know if it had been a miracle but she knew that some part of her had entered Jamie’s body and guided it to make itself whole again. It was possible just as Master Raymond had claimed. She’d seen it happen.

But could it happen again? Claire looked at hands and she remembered the tips of her fingers glowing with that strange light. How had she wielded it when she’d never done it before?

Jamie stirred a bit and her gaze fell on him. Jamie. It was all about him. She’d done what she’d had to because he had needed her to. He had been the path she’d tracked in the darkness and the source of it all. He was her touchstone. She leaned against the side of the bed where he lay and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Their baby fluttered in her belly reminding her that they were three. Claire ran a comforting hand against the sweet swell of their child and was not surprised when Jamie’s hand covered her own.

It was a comforting touch and she relished the feel of his strong fingers and calloused skin on her own. It gave her peace. Worldlessly he pulled her towards him and into his arms. She rested her head on his chest and felt the beating of his heart.

“I love you” she said.

“And I you mo chridhe. Dinna fash yerself. We will keep our family safe and we we will return to our home to have our bairn. I promise ye.”

He said softly.

Claire nodded and hugged him tighter. Oh how she treasured this man who’d been so good to her. He was the father of her baby and her one true love.

“Jamie... can I ask you something?”

“Aye. Anything lass. I’ve nay secrets from ye” he replied as he played with an errant curl that had escaped the confines of the knot at the nape of her neck.

She smiled at his antics and leaned her head towards him so he could continue. “Do you remember anything from when you were asleep? Did you feel anything different... maybe a bit strange?”

“I know what ye’re asking. I saw it when I was unconscious and I saw it again when I woke up”

“What did you see?”

“Your light lass. It is blue and so verrà beautiful. I was first a witness to it when ye eased my headache back in our croft but couldn’t speak on it.”

Claire blinked

“I had no idea. Are you certain?”

“Aye, as certain as I lie her before ye. I felt it too. Like a warm bit of sunshine urging me to make myself better. I ken it was a part of ye so I welcomed it.”

His hand had loosened the ribbon keeping her hair tied back. Her curls tumbled about her face and Jamie sighed happily. His wife was lovely.

“I don’t know if I can help Alex with whatever it is. I think that any ability I may have is tied to you. I’ve been here for a month and been unable to do much for him. With you it was different because I am connected to you.”

“And I’m verra glad of it Ye’re blood of my blood and bone of my bone and ye have been since the moment I first saw ye. Whatever comfort or aid I can provide know that I am at yer service.”

She considered his words. If Jamie had been the catalyst that guided her to the source that Master Raymond had alluded to he could very well help her with Alex. Maybe his soul could be made to heal his body. They might have a chance after all to comply with what Black Jack had asked of them.

They wouldn’t try right away as Jamie was still too weak to stand. A few days might be needed but in the meantime she would prepare. Even if she wasn’t successful they needed to leave soon. The baby had begun to shift towards the birth canal and she wasn’t going to have their child in a British garrison. In the evening she would find Clarence. She prayed that the mule was safe.

*x*x*x*x*

For the hundredth time the mule pressed its wide forehead against the stall door and pushed with all his might. The heavy wood did not budge even a bit and Clarence brayed in disappointment. He’d gotten splinters in his forehead but had yet to find a way out of the stables.

In his frustration the mule had even wished for Gideon, not that the irascible horse was good company but he would have been able to manage their escape if he set his overlarge frame to the task. Clarence needed to find a way out and find Jamie. One only knew what kind of trouble his mute master might have gotten himself into. The mule had long since known that he was the smartest of the pair and it was his task to keep his foolish master safe.

But trapped as he was he couldn’t help and this was a maddening proposition for the intelligent mule. He wasn’t used to being defeated by a simple wooden bar across the stall door. The English were truly infernal masterminds to have overcome such a noble creature as a Scottish mule with his dander up.

“Clarence!” Her voice carried through the stable and the mule responded with a loud bray. He kicked the door for good measure and was rewarded by the welcomed sight of Claire.

The reunion was very joyful as both mule and mistress greeted each other with hugs (on her part) and soft nibbles (his contribution). The litany of happy hee-haws was something to behold that he horses occupying the other stalls joined in with a chorus of neighs.

After a bit the mule settled down and looked upon Claire. His overlong ears flicked questioningly as Claire patted his muzzle.

“I’m sorry Clarence but we are not going home just yet. It will only be a few more days, I promise but you must be patient.”

Clarence stomped his hoof a bit in protest. Why couldn’t they go now? And where was Jamie?

“He’s fine Clarence. He’s with me and I will make sure he’s safe. Jamie cannot ride just now but will be able to very soon and then we’ll go.”

She spent a few more moments trying to soothe the mule who was not at all happy with having to stay in the garrison stables any further. They were handsome enough but he longed for his humbler abode but at last he understood that he would have to make the best of it for now. He let her go with a last bray to remind her that he would do his part and wait for the time to go.

X*x*x*x*

It had taken Claire another week before he judged that Jamie was strong enough to rise from his bed without risking a relapse. His appetite had also returned and he made short work of Mrs. Graham’s delectable dishes. The kind housekeeper and Jamie had developed a bond centered on his willingness to overeat and Mrs Graham’s tendency to overfeed her charges.

The return of his voice had also brought out his latent charm. Jamie was quite social and loved to talk for hours. At night they lay in bed and he would tell her of his family back in Lallybroch. She learned of his sister Jennie and Ian, wee Jamie and Janet. He told her of Ellen Fraser and how she’d challenged the will of her family to run away with his Da.

Claire had been standing at the side table pounding feverfew leaves into the needed consistency. She was readying all her herbs to use with Alex the next day. Jamie was sitting on the bed watching her work as he tried to keep her from worrying about the task at head.

“My mam saw Brian Fraser across the main hall at and knew there would be no one else for her.”

Claire looked at me he crushed leaves critically. They could do with a little more crushing.

“Your mother sounds like a very brave woman.”

Jamie rose and walked towards her. “Aye. She reminds me of ye mo chridhe.”

His arms went around her waist and rested on top of her belly. She was carrying the child very low.

“I don’t think so. I’m not brave at all.”

“Ye are lass but ye don’t make much of it

Ye do what needs to be done even if it’s difficult or dangerous. The healing that ye do takes a toll on ye but yer still willing if it means that someone will be better.”

She leaned against him and took his words to heart. Tomorrow she would need everything she had left. Alex had gotten worse and he wouldn’t last but a few more weeks. She needed to help him now.

Later, Claire slept in Jamie’s arms and didn’t hear as he prayed in Gaelic for deliverance. In a few hours they would try to do the impossible and bring a dying man from the brink. Jamie had no doubt that Claire was up to par but he wished that he would be strong enough to support her. He was her husband and it was his duty to provide for what she needed even if it was a miracle.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters to go and they will be action packed. Thank you for reading and Happy Season Premiere!!!


	27. All you need...

She started of with what she knew: an intricate turmeric poultice on his chest and inhalation of thorn apple smoke stopping only to listen to the persistent congestion in his lungs. The crackling sound revealed their very poor state. They’ve undoubtedly had great damage on them as Alex had been ill for some quite some time.

He told her that his condition had started while in his early teens. Any increase in activity, even if it was only a slight jog, would cause fits of coughing and wheezing. A childhood dream of joining his big brother Johnny in his majesty’s troops had evaporated with his worsening health. 

“It took everything from me Claire and now it will take my life” there was solemn resignation in his words.

“I won’t let it Alex. I promise you.” Claire said as she rubbed the fragrant poultice in his chest. 

The young man smiled softly. His frail appearance decried her words. He’d made his peace with the inevitable a long time ago.

Jamie was sitting by the window watching his wife as she ministered to her patient. Even as a layman he could tell that Alex Randall hadn’t much left in him. His already pale skin was white as parchment, his lips were blue and his eyes had a bruised look to them. It took all his remaining strength just to whisper a bit. The Scotsman felt very sorry for him even if he was Black Jack’s brother.

Claire swept by him while moving a basin of warm water to the table next to Alex. The soft wool of her skirt caressed his arm and he had to stop himself from reaching out to her. It was something that even under these stressful times he longed for her so. Jamie promised himself that if they ever made back into their cottage they wouldn’t leave their bed for at least a week.

Alex coughed and Jamie winced in sympathy as the linen handkerchief he held was stained red. He didn’t speak anymore after that and merely watched Claire with detached curiosity as she went about trying to save his life.

Minutes passed as did the hours and the only change was that Alex fell asleep. Claire saw that his color as getting worse. What she was doing for him wasn’t helping. Jamie rose and knelt in front of her. 

“Dinna fash mo chridhe. It will be alright.”

“I don’t think so Jamie, he’s fading away very fast. I can feel the sickness in his lungs, they are scarred with it and not functional anymore” she whispered.

He took her pale hands in his own. Claire sighed at the feel of his strong, warm fingers caressing her skin. There was trust and love in his touch and her heart responded to it. Jamie could always bring her back to herself even in the most dire of circumstances. 

She leaned against him and breathed his scent. He was freshly bathed and his natural scent was that of the moor in the lonely part of Scotland they lived in. Oh how she ached for their humble home, their tiny stone cottage with its unadorned furniture. Jamie had been building their child’s crib and she pictured the handsome sanded wood frame that he had been laboring on. It would be a thing of beauty she’d no doubt by the effort he’d put into its making. She wanted to be there with him again living their quiet lives surrounded by their dreams and hopes. Instead they were here with their lives dependent upon a miracle that she could not bring about.

Jamie kissed her hands and brought them to his chest. The emotion in his eyes warmed her spirit.

“These hands... they have healed my wounds and taken away my pain. They have given me my voice when I dwelt in silence. They have given me succor when I dwelt in fear. My lady ye are wondrous. There is nothin’ ye canna do” he said tenderly.

Claire felt a prickling in the tips of her fingers that coursed from her veins. The temperature of her body rose as did the beating of her heart. 

In her mind’s eye an image of her uncle standing before a young man whose lips were purple with lack of oxygen due to advanced consumption. Uncle Lamb had propped him up with pillows and was pounding steadily on his back to loosen up the thick mucus invading the organs. It wasn’t very effective and the patient’s heart had given up its futile efforts.

Suddenly, uncle Lamb stopped and closed his eyes. A young Claire crept closer and she saw that he’d moved his hands to the patient’s chest and was rubbing the ribs as if he was penetrating the wasted skin and the bones to the stilled heart. A tiny flicker of something emanated from her uncle’s touch.

“You are needed, stay.” he urged him. Claire remembered that the young man had a sweetheart that he was to marry. She’d been by his side relentlessly until Lamb had forced her to rest due to her advanced pregnancy. If he died, she and her child would face a grim fate. 

It wasn’t a surprise to her in the least when the eyes opened and a guttural sound emerged from parched lips. The man looked about wildly searching for his beloved after being pulled from wherever he had gone. 

She remembered that he had recovered enough to be there when his child was born and then for the second one the year after. After that Claire and Lambert had left answering the call for a healer from the McKenzie.

Whatever ability her uncle had been granted had passed on to her but she had no control over it but now, with Jamie’s firmly embedded trust in her, she was somehow pulling out of her soul.

Claire moved towards her patient and without any hesitation she put her hands over Alex’s poulticed chest and let the energy flow out of her and into him. The baby in her belly stirred excitedly.

The ailing man’s blood was thick and almost deplete of the life giving oxygen but the light emanating from Claire flowed smooth throughout until it reached the ailing lungs. The alveoli were mired in scar tissue and fluid, barely active. She envisioned herself healing the damaged tissue and knew that it was so. 

Jamie had settled behind her. His blue eyes were wide with wonder as he saw his wife in the midst of her craft. He was a Scot and a lad with healthy respect for the supernatural but when it came to Claire he had no fear. She was simply wonderful.

Alex gasped and his eyes fell open. He gasped as if dying and halfway rose from his bed. Claire was ready for it and placed a basin in front of him as he released the noxious substance coating his lungs. The liquid was vile but she did not turn away until he was spent and laid back upon his pillows. Tired but better already.

“Claire?” Alex ventured as she set the basin on the small table next to him,

“Claire!” Jamie echoed and rushed to her in time to catch her as she slid to the ground.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She slept for nearly four days. Jamie refused to leave her side and did no take anything besides water during this time. His stomach was in knots over his wife’s state.

Mrs Graham was also worried for Claire but tried to ease Jamie’s anxiety as much as she could but the lad was inconsolable. All he cared for was his wife but she would not wake.

It was near dawn when Jamie’s laid slumped against Claire’s bed. His head rested on her blanket and the mass of red curls fell across her rising chest. He was so exhausted both physically and emotionally that he did hit even notice when her fingers tangled about his hair softly caressing it. Jamie stirred and blinked sleepily at the sight before him: his wife’s beloved whisky colored eyes were finally open. 

He smiled at her and the tears fell unbidden. “Mo chridhe.” 

She turned her face towards him and smiled. “Did I ever tell you that I love the sound of your voice?”

Jamie cuddled closer and his words were soft and tender. “No, but I reckon it’s better than my being silent as a doornail. Lass are ye really well?”

“ I am... just a bit worn down but nothing serious. Our baby is fine.”

“Thank God and the blessed virgin. I thought I had lost both of ye. Never leave me again Claire and if ye have to please take me wi’ ye because wi’ out ye I dinna want to live.”

She held her husband as he fell apart in front of her. There was pain and longing in his embrace as well as the terrible fear of not having her with him. Part of him would always remain the silent and lonely lad shut away in his croft with only his animals as companions. 

“Don’t be afraid Jamie. You won’t ever be alone again” she promised him. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse had left me for quite a while but I think it’s better now. Next chapter we finally have the birth of their first child and Jamie will have to make a choice about the future of his family. Stay tuned and thank you for your patience.


	28. Love III

Things happened very quickly after that. Alex was seen to and declared fit if still undernourished. Claire prescribed a diet heavy in vegetables and meats and as much sunlight as could be found in this part of the world. Mrs Graham promised to make the young patient comply.

After that all that was left was to meet with the garrison commander.

Claire and Jamie stood shoulder to shoulder before Jack Randall. The latter looked upon their united front with barely concealed displeasure. He especially objected to the peasant farmer whose glare told of deep seated hatred towards himself. Although vulnerable in an English military fortress he was not cowed but held his head high as if he had both wealth and power. It was infuriating and Randall wanted to throw him back into the dungeon for his impudence.

But his word had been already been given. 

“You have fulfilled your end of the bargain Mistress Fraser. My brother has improved greatly” he said coldly but not without a hint of gratitude.

Claire bowed respectfully but it was Jamie who responded. “Aye, it was through the efforts of my wife that yer brother has his life back. Now we need to return to our cottage as soon as possible. “

“ I will honor my word.” 

“See that ye do. My wife should be home resting before our bairn is to come.” 

The Scot and Englishman’s dislike of each other was palpable and in another life would have festered into something much more destructive. As it was they would never cross paths again.

There was a tightness in Jamie’s chest that did not ease until he led his wife away from he Captain and towards their room to where they were to say their goodbyes to Alex and Mrs Graham. The young man was much improved in both health and looks. Even his normally pale cheeks had some color to them.

“How can I ever thank you Claire?” Alex’ voice was steady and strong. 

The healer smiled as she hugged him. “Live as well as you can and find that love that we have spoken of. You deserve it Alex.”

Mrs Graham was just as emotional in her goodbyes. She not only kissed Claire but Jamie as well. The red headed man blushed shyly not accustomed to the attention from anyone besides his wife.

At last they were ready to go. Clarence had been hitched to a cart in deference to Claire’s condition. Jamie had planned on her riding the mule while he walked alongside but was glad that the would both be riding so that he could look after her better.

Clarence was beyond thrilled at seeing Jamie. He’d been deeply worried about him even after Claire’s reassurances and nothing had prepared him for the sound of Jamie’s voice.

“Hello Clarence”

The mule’s head twisted sideways to the right and then to the left. He shook his overlong ears and his mouth dropped open, speechless for once.

Jamie petted his head and lifted his wife to the cart next to the hamper that Mrs Graham had thoughtfully packed for them.

It was a long ride but a happy one. There were frequent stops so that Claire could stretch her legs. Plans for their future were discussed as were baby names.

“Dalhousie Fraser”. Jamie ventured.

Claire winced as the baby gave her a resounding kick. “I don’t think so. It sounds like a sneeze.”

“T’is a braw name for a laddie but if we are blessed with a lassie instead I would like for her to be named Claire like her wonderful mam.” 

His eyes had gone soft and dreamy thinking of a sweet little girl with his wife’s curls. Claire sighed happily and leaned against him. Jamie’s strong arms enveloped her. Their ordeal was over and all that remained was to watch their family grow. 

Clarence picked up his pace as their neared their home eager to be back at his own warm stable. He all but galloped the last few miles and Jamie had to keep him from jostling Claire about. Her large belly had changed her center of gravity tremendously and he wanted to wrap her in cotton wool to keep her and the bairn safe. The month he’d been locked away from them had been fraught with anxiety and worry. He vowed never to be separated from his family again.

The stone cottage was a lovely in the moonlight. Both Jamie and Claire smiled at the sight. Home at last.

xXxXxX

The Bugs had very kindly kept up their land and animals for all the time that they had been gone but there was much for Claire and Jamie to do. The cottage needed to be readied for the baby and the barley for the whiskey -making was to begin its malting process. This was added to the regular ongoing duties of the croft but neither did not mind it in the least. They were grateful beyond words.

Jamie threw himself wholly into the work with obvious joy in his heart. He had his wife, his bairn and now his voice. God had been very good to him. Poor, silent and lonely Jamie had been granted the most wonderful gift of love and family and there was nothing else he could ask for.

Together they made their cottage their sanctuary once more. The unpretty stone walls glowed with warmth as they spent quiet nights by the fire making clothes for the baby. Jamie was a better knitter than her and was tasked with the tiny pieces with the more intricate patterns. He still could not give his baby much but every stitch held his love. 

And then one quiet morning Claire’s pains started. 

“Lass... are ye well?” Jamie asked frantically. She’d gone pale and her hands were gripping the arms of the chair she was sitting in. He knelt before her and his worried eyes combed through her form alighting on her face.

She breathed deeply and counted the seconds before she answered him. “It’s alright.... it’s just time for our child to arrive.” Claire said softly as she held her belly. The baby within her at last ready to see the world. 

Panic seized the young father-to-be. They had made a good plan as to what to do at such a time but he couldn’t remember any of it. He was supposed to fetch someone to help but who? Clarence? Gideon? The goats?

“Mrs Bug Jamie. Go get Mrs. Bug. “

Right. Mrs Bug had some training as a midwife and more than willing to lend her assistance as she’d said many times. She could help Claire while he was just likely to lose consciousness from nerves even before his bairn had crowned. Christ it was happening.

He kissed her soundly and helped her to their bed albeit clumsily. Claire had to remind him to lay the old blanket over the mattress to catch any likely fluids and then ease her down with increasingly shaking hands. 

“Jamie, l’ll be fine. I promise you. Everything will be well.”

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been tearing up until her hand wiped the moisture away from his face. He smiled sheepishly. “Dinna fash mo chridhe. Yer husband is a naught but a frightened child it seems.”

They smiled at each other reassuringly but both knew that a young Jamie had been left without his mam after a very difficult birth. Such things leave marks that do not fade even with time. But they had to be strong for their bairn’s sake.

Jamie made her comfortable and kissed her again. He rushed to the stable as fast as his feet could carry him. He had intended to go for Clarence but hesitated in front of Gideon. The horse was fast for all that he was insane. 

“Please Gideon my lady needs ye” he pleaded.

Gideon snorted and flattened his ears. Clarence gave an indignant bray that made the horse turn towards him. Both animals stared at each other for a second until Gideon gave a self-pitying sigh and stepped forward allowing Jamie to saddle him.

They were off in a flash. Man and horse for once in perfect harmony for the love of Claire. Clarence brayed enthusiastically at their wake.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The birth lasted almost a day. Mrs. Bug was a competent midwife but even she could not bring forth a babe that would not come.

Claire was running out of strength to push but she soldiered on. Her eyes were trained on her husband holding her hand. He was pale and growing even more so as the hours passed and Claire’s pains increased.

Mrs. Bug had prepared a tinture of raspberry leaf and blue cohosh. It had been seeping for hours when finally judged strong enough to finally bring forth the babe. However it could be dangerous and Mrs Bug said as much but they had little choice.

“Claire?” 

“It’s alright Jamie. I know this mixture and I know what it does.”

She took the cup and drained it quickly knowing that the effects would be almost immediate. It was not much longer before the cramps worsened and Claire buried her face in Jamie’s shoulder seeking comfort in her husband.

Not knowing what else to do Jamie prayed in a mixture of Gaelic and English with a bits of French. He offered his life and his very soul for his wife’s pains to ease. At this point he did not even ask for the bairn as Claire was that much more important. If she was well he would not mind being mute again. If she was well he would even give her up as long as she survived.   
.  
...Please God, hear my prayer..save her, save her.

And then the most beautiful sound broke through the agony. Like birdsong, the baby’s soft cry brought forth the first light of dawn. The tiny body slid out of its mother and into the world. 

Jamie watched in awe as his wife drew the babe to her breast after Mrs. Bug cur through the cord. Claire was crying but not in pain but for joy and so was he. He drew his strong arms around them both. His wife, his son. His family at last. Jamie was complete.

 

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are almost at the end. Thank you for all your encouragement as it really helps. For those that have been asking a new chapter of “A man’s soul” one is almost complete. I got to see Hamilton this past week and it really brought forth a bit of inspiration so my fics are getting updated including my CatJamie story. Happy season finale to all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Jamie, Clarence, Claire...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564428) by [Cantrix_grisea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantrix_grisea/pseuds/Cantrix_grisea)
  * [Jamie, Clarence, Claire...on the field](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092776) by [Cantrix_grisea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantrix_grisea/pseuds/Cantrix_grisea)




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